


Seeking Love for the End of the World

by shacchi (Shana_Nakazawa)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Apocalypse, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Astronomical Inaccuracies, Bottom Castiel, Community: deancasbigbang, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Terminal Illnesses, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shana_Nakazawa/pseuds/shacchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sudden announcement that an enormous asteroid is going to crash into Earth in less than six months brings an end to Dean Winchester's relationship. In an ideal world, people will work harder than ever before to find a way for them to survive within those six months, but this isn't an ideal world, and Dean, like most people, decides to spend their last moments to make their life worth it.</p><p>That brings him right in front of the door of Castiel Novak, a long lost love he's never quite forgotten. But what Dean thought would be a closure for both him and Castiel turns out into reopening the pages of their story and continuing it. And this time, Dean vows not to ever let it end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After changing my draft four times (FOUR!), I finally got to settle with this idea and actually finish it off. Huge thanks to my friend Chika who conveniently replies my whining with, "I will never understand why the fuck you'd ever do this knowing your workload." Really, thanks for the positivity. Also thanks to pinkbucky (Tumblr) for being my artist; I don't know what did I do to ever deserve you. Also to my betas, Jennifer and Merve, this will never happen without your help. Seriously, thanks a lot to all of you who support me so that my very first DCBB experience is a blast! I love you all so much.

Dean Winchester wakes up with a heavy feeling in his chest. He stands up too fast and groans when his head immediately hurts like something is hitting it with a hammer from the inside. The green-eyed man then lies down for a while before rolling over carefully. He quickly finishes a glass of water available on the night stand next to his bed.

He heads to the bathroom to take a shower. The cold water hitting his skin like prickly little needles helps blinking his sleepiness away. Dean furrows his brows; he stinks of alcohol. He tries to remember what had happened last night. He vaguely remembers going to a bar and gulping shots after shots of vodka in distress. With how much he took, Dean is surprised he managed to find his apartment.

Everything has been going downhill for him. To be fair, he’s not alone; seven billion other people are also pretty much feeling the same.

It all started by an announcement by NASA.

Dean remembers it all so clearly. It was a bright sunny day in Kansas; the middle of the hottest summer the world has ever experienced. Dean was chilling out by washing his car—a ‘67 Chevy Impala, his joy and pride—with Ben Braeden, his girlfriend’s son.

Lisa Braeden came out of the house with two glasses of fresh orange juice. Things were going perfectly, until a sudden live broadcast airs from the Impala’s radio.

“There has been a discovery by NASA of a 70 mile-wide asteroid called ‘Lucifer’ heading toward Earth in its orbit. NASA’s spokesperson stated that the asteroid will likely crash into Earth in less than six months. It’s feared that when that happens, it will also be the end of the world. NASA is still investigating this matter alongside other space-related organizations from all over the world. Prior to this message, there have been several plans to send men to space to save humanity.”

Right after the news was over, Dean was sure that every single person in the world stilled like him. He was hoping it would be a joke made by the government to cover up some big propaganda. He could hear Lisa laughing nervously, asking in a shaky voice that it wasn’t true.

When NASA declared that it was true that a giant asteroid was heading toward their planet, Lisa decided to call an end to their relationship.

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s just … we only have, like, six months before doomsday. I don’t want to spend it with someone who doesn’t love me fully,” she said with sadness in her eyes.

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. What she said was true. Lisa was everything he could’ve dreamed of, really. She was beautiful, kind, patient, and loving. But somehow Dean had never truly trusted his heart with her. He felt safe and content with her, but mostly it was because he was too scared of facing what would happen if he broke things up between them.

Finally Dean replied, “Okay.”

Lisa waited, but when Dean said nothing else, she sighed. “Okay,” she said slowly. Dean’s green eyes met her dark brown ones, and they stared at each other for what felt like eternities before Lisa closed the distance between them. She traced her fingers on Dean’s face and brought her lips closer to his. In haste, she kissed him softly, and Dean placed his hand on her hips lightly instinctively and kissed her back.

The kiss felt final, and they both knew it. By the time it was over, Lisa had her eyes closed and Dean held her tight in his arms.

“Thank you for everything,” Dean said. Lisa nodded and smiled, and that was the last exchange they had.

Dean moved out of her house the next day. Ben had a tantrum when he found out that Dean was leaving for good, but Dean managed to calm him down. Lisa held her crying son, standing on her doorstep while watching his ex-boyfriend carry everything they ever had together.

Dean gave her a smile and a wave, and she sent him her last smile. They didn’t say anything. The sound of the Impala’s tires meeting gravel filled the serene yard as the car left its home, bringing its owner with it.

After the breakup, things hadn’t been easy with Dean. Everything and everyone changed; “Yeah, well, the apocalypse will do that to ya,” Bobby Singer spoke of his words of wisdom one day.

Dean was still working as a mechanic in Bobby’s auto shop. But now he had to pay for his apartment rent. He gave up on finding a relationship. It was mostly because the end of his days was neigh, so he didn’t see the point. However, as much as he hated to admit, the eldest Winchester often felt as if it was surreal; like the apocalypse would never really happen.

Just a little after a month of the designated day, NASA declared that the final mission to save mankind had failed. That was the trigger. Everything was down to chaos now. Everyone felt that they need to make their last moment worth it, and they did what they wanted. Not that anyone cared enough to stop them.

Dean spent last night getting hammered at the bar after a particularly hard day at work. He originally wanted to find some random chick to spend the night with, but in the end the mechanic decided against it in his drunken state.

Now, though, nothing seems to worth anything anymore. Dean goes to work more because of habit rather than responsibility.

“Well, I’m sure y’all heard the news yesterday. Just wanna make sure you understand that I’m not gonna force you to come to work or anythin’. It’s your last three weeks after all. Make it worth somethin’,” Bobby announces to his employees.

The four men nod, including Dean. He’s been wondering when his boss will gather his employees to have this kind of notice. In times like this, most people think it’d be best to for once live for themselves. Like what young people like to say, you only live once. Besides, what is the point of working anyway? Besides from distracting their minds of the inevitable doom like Dean.

Bobby approaches Dean who’s fixing a busted tail light on a Camaro. The elderly man pats Dean on the shoulder.

“I’m almost done with this one. Just gonna smooth this a bit, and it’s ready to go,” Dean says as he wipes his forehead, leaving a smear of oil.

“You don’t have to do this, boy. I mean, this is your last weeks on Earth. Don’t you have some things you want to do before we all go down?” Bobby asks. He sits down on a battered couch and reaches for two glasses of beer in the small refrigerator nearby.

Dean sits up. He accepts the beer offered by Bobby. Bobby stares at him in a way that makes Dean sigh in defeat. He opens the bottle’s cap and sits down beside Bobby, preparing for a “chick flick” talk.

Dean takes a big gulp, relishing the burning sensation in his throat. “I got nothing left, Bobby. Sam’s happy with Jess. We’ll meet up, have some beer, say sorry and bid our goodbyes; don’t worry. But right now, this job is everything to me,” he utters.

“Look, Dean. I know things been rough for you since that goddamn apocalypse announcement and shit. But, well, I sure ain’t givin’ up, but if there’s a time to finally let go, this is it. Make your last worth it. We ain’t got nothin’ left to lose.” Bobby stares at Dean again, his half empty bottle forgotten.

Dean stills. He takes a gulp of his beer with dazed eyes, looking like he’s in deep thought.

“I won’t tell you how to do your life, boy, but if I’m gonna die in three weeks, I sure ain’t gonna go with regrets,” Bobby states, finality hanging in his tone, and then he gets up to finish his beer and walk to his house.

After the door is closed, Dean puts down his empty bottle and runs a hand through his hair.

To say that Dean doesn’t have any regret in his life would be a huge lie. Inside the tough guy mask he puts on lies a lonely broken man. After 26 years of living, Dean has gone through so much.

The death of his mother because of fire in their house when Dean was still four years old was the beginning of all. Mary Winchester’s death devastated John Winchester, leaving him an alcoholic and abandoning father. Dean had to take care of his little brother Sam who was still six months old at that time. They were often dropped off at Bobby’s, John’s old friend. Truthfully, more than John, Bobby was more suited to be called Dean and Sam’s father.

However, Dean still looked up at John. Despite his problems, John was still his father, and there were times where he seemed like the greatest dad to Dean. That was why when John was killed in a car accident eight years ago, it reopened old wounds on Dean. The only thing keeping him to go on was Sam.

The third hit was when Sam decided to go into Stanford. Dean knew his baby brother had always wanted to go into law school and become a lawyer. Hell, Dean had to study while working three jobs to scrape for money for him to be able to attend there. Good thing little Sammy was smart and hard working. Still, it got lonely when Sam left. No promises to call and come home as often as possible could appease the sadness. It was true that Dean did have abandonment issue.

So, yes, Dean Winchester didn’t have the best life. He was hurt, he was betrayed, he was left; but he held on.

His lifetime regret is the thing that broke him the most.

Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The image of messy dark hair and eyes of the bluest blue ever seen is too much for the man.

A name hangs heavy on Dean’s lips, but he’s afraid of his own voice.

* * *

 

On Sunday morning, Dean finds himself throwing a duffel bag into his Impala’s trunk, gas tank full and tapes of various rock bands ready. His fingers traces the curves of the beautiful car, a wide grin etched on his lips.

“We’re back on the road, Baby!” he says loudly in obvious excitement. He sits on the driver seat, relishing the feel of worn out leather and the astounding smell of coffee and woods. His smile softens when he whispers, “We’re going home.”

The gruff engine sound of the Impala is accompanied by AC/DC blasting “You Shook Me All Night Long”. The tires screech against gravel and the car leaves its home at 106 Lawrence Ave, Lawrence, Kansas.

With the window rolled down, Dean enjoys the feeling of wind against his skin. It isn’t long until he starts singing along with Brian Johnson wholeheartedly.

His destination is Stanford, California. Dean called Sam last night to tell him that he’s going to visit him there. Sam asked why he had suddenly decided to do that. Dean simply said that he missed him, but they both knew that it wasn’t the sole reason.

Nevertheless, Sam said, “Okay.” The softness in his voice soothed Dean. He hadn’t met his little brother for quite a while, but he was glad that Sam hadn’t changed.

Dean finds himself remembering old memories. John used to take him and Sam on hunting trips on summer vacations. They would ride on the Impala, sleep in measly motel, and visit local diners. It wasn’t fancy, but they were happy. After he died, the Impala was passed down to Dean, and it was his turn to take Sam on vacations. Instead of hunting trips, Dean preferred to go on road trips across the country with Sam in the Impala. They carried on their father’s tradition to book the first motel on the phonebook and visit old diners. They had gone to the places numerous times that the waiters had befriended them.

By lunch time, Dean decides to drop by at the Roadhouse owned by Ellen Harvelle and her daughter, Jo. They’re his old acquaintances. John knew Bill Harvelle, Ellen’s late husband, as hunting friends. He often visited her even after Bill died after a bear attack during one unfortunate hunt. Dean met Ellen and Jo the first time when he was ten.

The Roadhouse is still the same as ever. There is the countryside vibe emitting from its dusty parking lot and old, woody, saloon-looking building. Many tourists visit this place because it’s near a crossing road. But most of its visitors are old customers; hunters like Bill or bikers.

Dean parks his Impala and enters through the door. “Can’t Fight This Feeling” is blasting from the jukebox located at one corner. The corner of Dean’s mouth crinkles with a grin; this is the song that played when he and Jo first met.

“Dean!” a high-pitched voice calls out. Dean turns his face and sees Jo smiling at him. She, too, hasn’t changed a lot. Her blonde locks have grown a bit, and her body is toned—probably all the workouts she likes to do—but other than those, she’s still the sweet little Jo Dean knows.

“Hey, Jo. Been a while, eh?” Dean greets her. He walks toward the bar, eyes scanning the whole room. The bar isn’t packed today, and Ellen is nowhere to be found.

Jo is behind the counter, smiling widely. “Sure it has. When was the last time you came here? Six months? I’m beginning to forget that smug face of yours,” she jokes.

“Hey, I know you miss me,” Dean retorts.

“You wish.” Jo sticks out his tongue. Dean replies with the same act, but then grins when a glass of beer is placed in front of him. Jo knows him very well.

The back door of the bar leading to the Harvelle’s house is opened, followed by a woman voice saying, “Well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester.”

Dean looks up from his beer and grins again. “’s good to see you again, Ellen,” he says.

“You bet your ass you do. When was the last time you visited this neck of the woods, huh? Just because you’ve grown into this hotshot doesn’t mean you can skip out on me, boy,” Ellen says with a big smile. She hugs Dean and he hugs her back; he really misses her.

Ellen goes behind the counter, replacing Jo who’s now cleaning the glasses. “So, what made you come here? Is it the apocalypse?” The way she asks it nearly makes Dean flinch; it’s with such casualty that it’s rather weird to see.

“Mom, stop talking about it, you’re scaring little Dean,” Jo says in a tone of mockery.

“Fuck you too, Harvelle,” Dean states with his middle finger.

Ellen rolls her eyes in fondness. Dean—and Sam, of course, have become such important boys in her lives. They have grown on her, and now she considers them to be his sons. To see Dean and Jo bickering makes her feel like family. After Bill died, Jo was the only thing she had. That was why she was glad John came along with Bobby, Dean, and Sam.

Speaking of Sam, Ellen remembers something. “Anyway, Sam’s not with you? He’s still in Stanford, huh?”

Dean nods. “Yep. Gonna become a hotshot lawyer, that kid.”

It is seconds later that he realizes that his little brother’s dream isn’t going to happen. It drowns him into an uncomfortable silence.

“So what’re you doing before the final showdown? And please don’t tell me it’s women and booze or I’m gonna blast you with my new rifle,” Jo asks.

“So what if it is?” Dean laughs. “But no. I just wanted to visit Sam and Jess. Probably go on a last road trip. And maybe make amends with my past.”

The last bit is more of a whisper, and Jo frowns. Ellen just nods in understanding. Dean isn’t one to talk about personal feelings, she knows that all too well, but she’s lived long enough to recognize problems like that. She pats Dean’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Well, if this is gonna be your last time here, we gotta make it special, yeah?” the elderly woman says with a smile.

Jo smiles too and goes to the kitchen. Dean expresses his gratefulness by groaning dramatically and says, “Oh my god, Ellen, god bless your soul to the highest fucking Heaven.”

“I know I’m awesome, kiddo,” she sasses.

A customer calls for a next round and Ellen leaves Dean for a moment to serve said guy a glass of cold beer. It seems like she knows him because she then indulges into a conversation with him.

Ten minutes later, Jo comes back with a big plate of warm, mouth-watering apple pie. Dean nearly breaks down; Harvelle’s signature apple pie is the best pie he’s ever tasted. Right after Jo places the plate in front of Dean, he dives in with gusto. He takes a bite and suddenly there’s an explosion of deliciousness in his mouth that makes him moan appreciatively.

The pie crust is soft but crispy, and the apple filling is warm and just the right amount of sweet. Everything blends in perfectly and it melts in Dean’s mouth. This is pure perfection that Dean will forever be grateful he’s capable of tasting.

Jo rolls her eyes, but her smile tells everything. “You better enjoy that, Winchester. You won’t find anything like that even in Heaven,” she says. The blonde picks up a fork and stabs a piece of pie on Dean’s plate to taste it herself.

“’ey!” Dean protests with his mouth full of pie. Jo just grins teasingly and takes another piece.

“I see you guys having fun already.” Ellen joins them again once she’s done with the customers.

“Having fun my ass,” Dean grumbles. With trained reflex, he slaps Jo’s hands trying to steal his pie again. “Joanna Beth Harvelle, I swear to god if you keep taking my pie I’m gonna skin you and use it as a rag to clean Baby.”

Jo throws her hands up in a parody of surrendering. “Okay, you got me, Dean-o,” she snickers.

“When will you two grow up?” Ellen sighs, but there’s obvious fondness in her smile.

Dean is halfway through finishing his pie when he realizes—like, truly realizes that this is his last chance of eating in the Roadhouse. This is the last time he gets to talk to Ellen or bicker with Jo. That goddamn apocalypse. Thinking about it makes something in Dean stir uncomfortably. In times like this, ignorance is bliss.

Dean’s plate is clean by the time other customers start leaving the place. He sticks around, though. If this is his last chance to spend his time in the Roadhouse with all its people, then he’s going to make it count.

The eldest Winchester is talking to Jo when a hand slings around his shoulder. His head turns and immediately he grins. There in the seat beside him, a skinny, long-haired guy with torn flannel sits with all his glory just as Dean remembers.

“Yo, Ash, dude. Been a while. How’re you? Still working on that project?” Dean asks. He offers his hand to shake.

Ash shakes Dean’s hand with their secret bro shake. “Good. That’s old news. I’m working on a new project. It’s the hardest I’ve ever done, but, hey; when apocalypse is on your throat, nothing’s too big, right?”

“Sure thing.”

“Okay, here we go,” Jo groans. “Now you gross boys can bond over boobs and Mario Kart, and I’ll do something useful here.”

“Bring us two bottles, won’t ya?” Dean asks.

“Fuck you, Winchester,” Jo replies with a raised middle finger and two bottles of beer flung at Dean and Ash’s direction. They both catch it with perfect reflexes.

“So, how about I tell you my new project?” Ash says as he opens his bottle cap with a click.

Dean follows. With a wide grin, he responds, “Why not?”

* * *

 

After hours of talking to his friends at the Roadhouse, Dean thinks it’s time to get going. He wants to go before it’s too dark. Of course Ellen, Jo, and Ash look reluctant to see him leave. Hell, even Dean doesn’t want to leave. Being there makes him feel warm and safe; something luxurious that Dean can’t afford nowadays.

Ellen gives him three boxes of pies. One apple pie for him, one chicken pot pie which is Sam’s favorite, and the other is blueberry pie. Seeing the last pie makes Dean wonder. He thinks it’s just a coincidence, but when he sees Ellen’s smile, he knows Ellen knows. He smiles too as a thank you.

Jo hugs him tight and she looks like she’s holding back tears. Dean is going to tease her, but then she punches him hard in the arm. “Don’t you dare,” she warns with a slightly broken voice. The beautiful blonde then smiles and adds, “See you in Heaven, jackass.”

Dean smiles too. He kisses Jo’s forehead softly as she closes he eyes. “You’re amazing, Jo, and I’m lucky to know you. Thanks for everything, yeah?” he bids his goodbye in a low voice. Jo nods with teary eyes, but she smiles wider.

Ash hugs him and Dean responds with a pat in his back. “I won’t forgive you if you haven’t finished your project before the day,” Dean says.

Ash laughs heartily. “Don’t worry. I’ll even share all the porn I’ll get with you. That is if Heaven allows porn.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll show the angels what they’ve been missing out,” Dean jokes and he pats Ash’s shoulder once again. Ash nods, and no more goodbyes are exchanged between them.

Ellen hugs Dean almost as tightly as her daughter does. She doesn’t cry, and her voice isn’t broken, but Dean feels the sadness coming off of her. She smiles, though, and for Dean, it’s enough. To be with someone he considers his own mother and sees her smile for the last time; it’s more than enough.

“You take care of yourself. Tell Sam I miss him,” she says in her hug.

“Don’t worry, Ellen. Sam and I are gonna be fine. We’ll miss you too. We’ll miss everyone,” Dean replies.

Ellen lets go of the hug and looks at Dean in the eyes. Her stare is unwavering but she smiles softly when she says, “Remember that this is your last days. Make it worth. Don’t walk off with regrets, you hear me?”

Dean smiles and nods. “I don’t need you telling me that. Why else would I be travelling of all things?”

Ellen’s smile grows wider and she nods. Dean walks to the Impala and revs the engine. Through the rolled down window, Dean waves his goodbye at Ellen, Jo, and Ash standing at the steps of the Roadhouse. It’s hard to leave a place he calls home, but as the three figures grow smaller before they fade, Dean knows he has something waiting for him in the future.

When Dean turns on the radio, there’s an intro of “Saturn” playing softly. Memories come in tides; of blue eyes, messy dark hair, and a smile so bright it’s blinding for Dean to see.

 _“Dean, do you know that the number of neurons in our body is the rough equivalent of the number of stars in a small galaxy? All those neurons working together so_ perfectly _for us to live and breathe… Aren’t we amazing?”_

A smile forces its way to Dean’s lips. He didn’t know, that time. Now, those trivia things are etched into his minds like they’re stapled to every corner of his house, with _his_ voice haunting Dean every time.

* * *

 

The apartment Sam shares with his girlfriend looks fairly normal from the outside to Dean. There’s a burgundy-colored welcome mat with two foot prints in the middle in lighter color. He tries if his feet fit. They do.

Dean punches the doorbell. It isn’t long until someone is rushing to open the door. A beautiful blonde in a Smurf shirt appears; a look of understanding in her face.

“It’s Dean, right?” she asks with a sweet voice and a big smile.

“Yeah,” Dean answers. The girl nods and turns her head to call out for Sam. Dean assumes this is Jess. He’s only met her for only ten seconds, but he feels a good vibe about her. He feels safe trusting his little brother on her hands.

“Dean, it’s great to see you,” Sam immediately greets Dean and pulls him into a tight hug. Dean hugs him back; god, how he misses his baby brother. Two years and Sam has already grown so much. He wonders how the little boy he takes care of all the time becomes such a man.

“I’ll go make some tea,” Jessica Moore says to Sam sweetly, to which he nods.

Sam then lets Dean in. They sit in the small guest room. Under the table, stacks after stacks of thick law modules are arranged neatly. Dean’s eyes land on a big shelf positioned at the corner, all filled with Sam’s modules and books. There are several frames put there; some of Sam and Jess, some of Sam and his other friends.

Dean’s eyes are fixed on a photograph on the first shelf. The photo is a bit crumpled and the colors are starting to fade, but with the photo of Sam and him at a firework festival nearly fifteen years ago framed so beautifully, Dean thinks it’s the most beautiful of all.

“How’s Bobby? I haven’t heard of him in a while,” Sam asks.

“He’s great. Last I checked, he was handling a torn up Chevy. Never grows tired, that old man,” Dean answers fondly.

“I see.” Sam smiles wider. “God, I miss Lawrence. Has it changed since I last went there? I surely hope not. I miss Mrs. Kingsley’s cinnamon rolls.”

Sam smiles that content smile that shows him remembering his hometown. Something in Dean stirs. It reminds him that Sam has grown apart from Lawrence, and slowly from him. He doesn’t want Sam to leave. No matter what, he’s still Dean’s little Sammy.

“Here you go,” Jess speaks as she puts down two cups of steaming tea on the table. She turns to Sam and adds, “Hey, I have to get going with Hannah, okay? I’ll be late, don’t wait for dinner.”

Sam nods and pecks her lips softly. “Careful.”

Dean watches the interaction with fondness in his eyes.

“So, what’s your plan?” Sam asks again. Dean understands the question in an instant, but he still doesn’t really know where he should go. The answer hangs in his tongue, refusing to come out, and Sam sighs. “You know running away doesn’t solve anything, right?” he says.

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “I just—god, I don’t know, Sammy,” he answers in desperation.

“You need to see him, Dean. You won’t get another chance,” Sam says. Dean diverts his face and closes his eyes. Sam looks at his brother, a long sigh escaping his lips. “It’s been six years, you know?”

“Exactly, six years. How am I gonna see him after all these time, Sam? After six years of abandoning him without notice. You can’t just expect him to forgive and forget. Hell, if I were him, I’d slam the door so hard it falls of its hinge. That’s human response. Why should he be any different?” Dean snaps, immediately looking down again. His self-deprecating tendency isn’t helping anything at the moment.

Sam flails his arm as a gesture, his face frowning as if the answer is obvious and he doesn’t understand why Dean can’t see it. “Because it’s Cas,” he responds.

Dean looks up and stares at Sam in the eyes. There’s uncertainty and fear in Dean’s green orbs, and as much as he hates to admit, he can’t overcome this on his own.

Being the little brother Dean raised ever since he was still a baby makes Sam understand his older brother better than anyone else. He gives Dean a small reassuring smile and an encouraging pat on his back. “He’s right there, Dean. What are you waiting for?” the long-haired man asks softly.

The silence that ensues is tense. Eventually Dean nods and returns his brother’s smile. “Okay,” he clasps Sam’s hand and gives him a pat, too.

“God, all these chick flick moments makes me hungry. C’mon, let’s go eat. Ellen gave me her infamous pies. You definitely want the chicken pie.” Dean stands up and brings a plastic bag with pies inside.

Sam is practically beaming when he hears about chicken pie. It’s his favorite, and Ellen’s is a piece of Heaven on Earth Sam will never trade for anything.

On the kitchen, Dean finds a sharp knife and gets down to work right away. He cuts the pies into big slices. Sam helps putting some into his plate, some into Dean’s, and the rest to be stored for them to eat later.

“Oh yeah, what time is it now?” Dean asks.

Sam checks his watch. “Almost five, why?”

“Dr Sexy reruns is in a few minutes,” Dean utters the information. He and Sam have a little staring contest before both men run as fast as they can to the TV.

“I’m calling dibs on this one, motherfucker!” Dean yells as he shoves Sam out of the way.

Sam retaliates by smacking Dean in his face with his hair. Dean splutters some curses when he stumbles and almost falls after his vision is blocked by Sam’s majestic brown hair.

In the end, after the unnecessary and childish quarrel over the damn TV remote, Dean gets it first and changes the channel into showing a rerun of Dr Sexy MD, a medical drama series which is not-so-secretly his guilty pleasure.

“Fuck, this is the best damn thing ever,” Dean groans in pleasure the moment he finds the perfect position. With a plate of pie in one hand and the TV remote in another, he flicks on the designated channel. The opening song already begins, showing a clip of Dr Sexy smirking at his female colleague.

Sam in the other hand looks horrified. “I feel like you’re turning into a lonely old woman who spends all her time watching TV and cleaning the house. Tell me when you’re getting a cat, yeah?”

“You shut your cakehole.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Both Sam and Dean are grinning. How they’ve missed doing this. It’s been two years since they saw each other, and with the clock counting down to three weeks, this is their last chance to be happy together. The brothers won’t let it come to waste.

“I’m pretty sure that’s inappropriate and unethical,” Sam comments when Dr Sexy pounces on another doctor in the elevator and they start making out wildly.

“That’s why it’s called a TV show, Sam,” Dean replies without taking his eyes off the screen.

“A crappy TV show that is,” Sam adds. Dean looks at him irritably.

The next fifteen minutes is spent in silence. Dean is enjoying the show and Sam is enjoying his pie, and both are content with their current state. Then it’s time for commercial and Dean talks.

“Hey, uh, are you busy with class or something?” he asks.

Sam contemplates. “Not really,” he answers slowly, “I mean, the university is shutting down too. Classes are probably gonna be dismissed in a week or two. There’s no need to come. Why?”

“Uh, nothing, just…” Dean stops, his words hanging at the tip of his tongue, uncertainty in his face.

“What?” Sam urges.

“Well, I figured it’s good for us to be like old time. Y’know, just go on a road trip with Baby, stay in crappy motels, eat in measly diners, the whole nine yards,” Dean offers.

Sam looks at his brother long, thinking of his answer. “Yeah, I think that’s good. I mean, I got nothing better to do anyway.” He smiles. “And I miss driving around.”

Dean smiles too. He also misses his brother and their old routine. There’s just the two of them in the family now. They only have each other. To be able to spend it together, just the two of them, before the world comes to an end, is something they both are grateful for.

When today’s episode is finished and it’s now showing the credits, Dean gets up to get water from the kitchen. Sam stops him.

“Dean, wait.”

Dean turns his back, his brows furrowed, questioning.

“How do you plan to go see him? Cas, I mean.”

The mention of that name brings a pang of guilt in Dean’s chest. His expression hardens, and Sam immediately knows he misspeaks. Before he can take it back and say sorry, though, Dean already waves him off with a quiet, “I’ll think about it.”

Sam watches his brother go out of the room. He remembers a time when Dean is still a bright, ecstatic young man filled with spirit and hope. He was so madly in love back then.

“Oh, Cas…” A sigh escapes Sam’s lips.

* * *

 

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Jess says worriedly as she fixes Sam’s shirt.

Sam smiles and brushes her blonde locks to the back of her ears. “I’m gonna be fine, don’t worry,” he laughs and ducks down to kiss her.

Dean is waiting by his car, smiling fondly at the sight of his brother and his girlfriend. He’s really happy for Sam. He deserves that kind of happiness and Dean is really grateful that Jess is more than capable of giving it to him.

“I’ll see you in a few days, okay?” Sam hugs Jess and kisses her forehead gently, and she melts into his embrace. The beautiful blonde seems reluctant to let go, but then Sam is hauling his duffel bag into the trunk of the Impala and Jess is left standing alone on the porch.

“Hey, Dean, please take care of Sam. He can be a big baby sometimes,” Jess asks with a smile.

Dean looks at her all cheeky grin and replies, “You know you’re too good for him, don’t you?”

Jess actually laughs at that. Her hair wavers because of the gentle breeze, and she ducks her head endearingly before looking up through dark lashes, a teasing grin on her lips as she responds, “I know.”

Dean decides that Jess is a keeper.

Sam waves his goodbye to Jess, and then the Impala’s moving, separating the two. Sam observes as his girlfriend’s figure gets smaller and smaller until she fades completely. He then switches his gaze to the road in front of him. He almost gasps breathlessly. Two years he hasn’t seen a view like this; gravel road stretched miles and miles ahead seen through by the Impala’s slightly dusty windshield, like a promise of a journey ahead.

Then Dean puts on Metallica and Sam groans at the ruined moment. “Really, Dean? Metallica?”

“Hey, drivers pick the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,” Dean shuts Sam off and continues to sing along with James Hetfield. His brother only rolls his eyes.

From Stanford, they’re heading to Illinois. Dean has made up his mind on going there to meet someone. He’s going to drop Sam off in Fairbury where he’ll meet with Jess there, and he’ll continue his drive to Pontiac. It’s going to be a long ass drive, so the brothers will do it the old-fashioned way. They’re going to be staying at sleazy motels and eat at cheap diners, enjoying the journey as much as the destination. The purpose of this trip is to relive old memories after all.

They depart rather late purposefully because Sam wants to stop by at Talia’s, a café run by his close friend by the same name. He manages to persuade Dean to try the place by bribing him of burgers and pies. Even Sam, who doesn’t really like greasy foods, admits that Talia’s burgers is amazing. His favorite menu is the Caesar salad, though.

After two years of not meeting each other, both Sam and Dean worry that they will have awkward silences during their trip. Fortunately that’s not the case. In fact, two years with the absence of each other gives great things to talk about between them.

“And I was so pissed that I ‘accidentally’ scratched his car’s body, and he didn’t even realize! God, that dumbfuck sure can win Guinness World Record for, what, World’s Greatest Moron?” Dean tells Sam of his story a few months back when he served an annoying, bossy costumer.

Sam shoots him a look of disapproval, but then again he can’t help but laugh. “Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t seen you behind bars,” he comments.

“Hey, it’s a free country,” Dean defends himself.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what free country means,” Sam adds.

“Yeah, humor me, smartass.” Dean looks at Sam coldly.

With a smug smirk, Sam retorts, “Well, I _do_ go to law school, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it and purses his lips. Sam pumps his fist and yells in victory. For once, he feels like being an adult is tiring and it’s time to let loose.

“Don’t get too happy, bitch,” Dean grumbles.

“Say whatever you want, jerk,” Sam snickers.

Even though Dean is grumbling, he feels content. He’s happy like this, alone with his brother doing what they love. There’s a fleeting moment where his mind decides to remember the apocalypse, forcing Dean to think that in less than three weeks, all this will come to an end. Dean suppresses the depressing thought by taking a deep breath. He looks at Sam, at Baby, and he thinks, he has this moment. This moment where he feels alive at most, no matter how short, will always be enough.

_“To have anything that allows the semblance of being alive—to pass conquering the ocean, to pass swimming in stars…”_

“… to be with you.”

* * *

 

Dean stays in his Impala for long, staring at the house with white picket fence without moving. There’s a garden with all kinds of flowers and a small porch with little table and chairs. Almost everything is painted in white; in innocence and purity, just like Dean imagines it to be.

“Oh, God, I can’t do this. Fuck, I can’t let myself do this. Fuck this shit oh god fuck I’m gonna fuck this up so bad.”

With the worst prep speech ever conceived, Dean walks out of his car.

His feet walk surprisingly steadily on the small road leading to the porch; the breeze caressing his skin soothes his nerves.

The door is in front of him, being the only thing separating him from _home_ , and he closes his eyes.

Dean breathes.

* * *

 

Castiel Novak is 24 and he’s perfectly content with his life. Life in Pontiac is quiet and calming. His time is spent in his house; gardening, making tea or reading books. Living alone has never been a problem. If any, he likes being alone. He doesn’t fancy being lonely, but he always has his flowers and books to smile to. He goes to bed smiling after a tiring yet blissful day and wakes up waiting for another wonderful one.

So, when the beginning of December comes, bringing along someone knocking at his door, he finds it disruptive.

With a blue sweater he knitted himself, Castiel opens the door. The first thing that catches his eyes is green. Green like the grass in his garden after he waters them; green like melon syrup he likes to make as he spends his time relaxing after a tiring day; green like the eyes of a man who once was his world.

“Hey, Cas.”

Castiel can’t tear his gaze. A peaceful life for six years, and all of that shattered in the blink of an eye. All the memories locked away for so long comes flooding back, and it renders him breathless.

“Dean…”

Castiel unravels.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean originally planned to only apologize so he and Cas could find closure. What he gets instead is more than that. Now he's forced to choose; whether to walk away again like a coward he was, or to face his fears and do what he should've done six years ago.

Castiel is still the same as Dean remembers him to be. He still has the same dark hair which is in a permanent bed head state; the same eyes which harbor the bluest blue to ever blues; the same deep, gravelly voice accompanying every word that rolls out of his luscious pink lips. Dean can hear his voice echoing in his head. _Don’t ever change._ He once said that, all those years ago.

When the surprise dies down, Cas looks at the man in front of him again. This is really Dean Winchester. The same Dean with that clear green eyes and warm smile he loved.

“Why are you here?”

The same Dean who left without a word six years ago.

Dean holds back a gasp, and even Cas winces at the harshness of his tone. Dean realizes the guilt when he sees the dark haired man grip at the doorframe tightly until his knuckle turns white. It makes his stomach churn.

“I, uh, I just…” Dean flails his hand rather awkwardly. “You’ve heard the news, right?”

Cas squints inadvertently, questions dying at the tip of his tongue, and slowly he nods. Dean looks at him, at the depth of his eyes, and breathes. Six years of pain, regret, and longing are all condensed into one exhale of his lungs.

“I only have less than three weeks to live, Cas. We all do. And I—I want to die without any regrets. You’re my only regret. The mistake I’ve done to you; I can’t live with it, and I can’t die taking it with me.”

There’s a hitched gasp, and Dean dares not to look up. He does so anyway, and he almost regrets it. Cas is an open book; he always has been. He wears his expression like it’s made to be read. Right now, Dean can see the clear surprise and pain. Cas’ grip on the doorframe is crushing, and he lowers his face to hide the flash of hurt in his eyes. It does nothing to conceal his quivering lips, bitten harshly in a nervous habit.

“Why, Dean?” Cas whispers with a broken voice.

Dean looks at him in desperation. “Cas, I—”

“Why now, after six years!?” Cas lifts his face, his voice raised in anger and frustration. His eyes are glassy from the held back tears. “Because in case you forgot, let me remind you again: you left me. Six years ago, you left, out of the blue, without anything to warn me. You made me cry on my graduation day. You almost made me blew up my whole valedictorian speech. You made me miserable for months, for _months_. You made me feel hopeless, and I could barely function after all you’ve done.”

Cas’ knuckle is formed into a fist, and he’s trembling with how he tries to hold back from punching Dean. Cas takes a deep breath, heaves it, and looks at Dean with piercing intensity, anger burning in those blue eyes.

“And now after all these years I spent alone, when I’m finally content with my life, you decided to come. You … you _broke_ me, yet you still have the nerve to come knocking at my door.” Cas looks at Dean coldly, venomous words waiting to burst out. “You’ve stooped so low, Dean Winchester.”

A pang of pain makes his heart skip a beat, but Dean takes it all. He knows he deserves Cas’ wrath. What he said is true, after all. But he doesn’t come here just to be kicked out. He comes here; all the way to this small town he’s always afraid of coming, to seek closure of his past.

“Cas, I’m sorry, really,” Dean starts, moving forward instinctively. Cas looks terrified and backs down. Dean stops on his track, feeling more guilt constricting his chest. “I just want to talk, okay? Just one talk, and then I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again, I promise. Just, please, give me one more chance.”

“No, Dean, stop. It’s over. Everything is over the second you walked out on me.” Cas looks at Dean again; even colder than before, if that is even possible. “You have no idea how much I hate you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Dean knows Cas does, and he knows that he deserves it, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“But, oh God, how I hate myself more for not being able to let you go…” Cas ends with a whisper. His head is hung low, his body slightly trembling from all the emotions, and Dean somehow feels how lithe this man is compared to him.

Dean steps forward, and this time Cas doesn’t back down. Dean wraps his arms around him, and Cas doesn’t move. Dean pulls him into a hug. Cas goes limp on Dean’s embrace, and frankly, at times when they’re faced with complex situation, the simplest way can be the best way to offer comfort.

They stay like that for a while; Dean holding Cas tightly while Cas stays unmoving, his expression blank. Dean breathes heavily, burying his face on Castiel’s dark locks.

Cas blinks. “Why are you here, Dean?” he asks, and Dean is extremely glad that right now, his tone isn’t cold or accusing. There is sincere curiosity there, albeit faint, covered with the visible tiredness.

“I’ve done so many wrongs, Cas,” Dean states firmly. His grip on Cas’ shoulder tightens, but the dark-haired man doesn’t budge. “But for once, let me make it right.”

Cas’ breath hitches, and when Dean looks at him, his lips waver. Cas touches Dean’s hand. “Can we talk?” he asks quietly.

“Okay,” Dean answers.

Cas backs down to let Dean in. He closes the door, taking a long gaze at the black Impala parked in front of his house, and smiles. There are some very fond memories of them in the car, and all those come flooding back.

Cas remembers the first time they kissed; he was crowded against the Impala and Dean laughed, his breath warm against Cas’ skin, and they kissed so softly. Dean’s lips felt so good against his, and he remembers grasping at Dean’s old leather jacket tightly, holding to the green-eyed boy like he was his lifeline. There was a time where they made out at the back of the Impala; Dean pinning him down on the leather seat, Cas panting and writhing with Dean thrusting into him, filling him up, and he remembers how good it felt. Another memory was when they sat at the hood of the Impala; they were watching stars, Cas’ finger drawing constellations while Dean linked their fingers together and kissed his temple softly, and Castiel remembers closing his eyes and feeling like he breathed stardust.

The door is closed and Cas’ focus is on Dean.

Dean looks around. The house radiates warmth and hospitality. He feels like he can find Cas everywhere. Cas is there in the corner where a big shelf holds hundreds of books. Cas is there up the wall where a painting of a human heart is hung. Cas is there on the table where a vase of lilies are put.

Cas leads him to the red sofa in the living room. Their footsteps echo in the quiet house. Dean sits down and Cas excuses himself to the kitchen to make coffee.

Five minutes later, the he’s back with coffee and orange juice in a tray. There are also cinnamon rolls like he used to make. It’s the same menu as six years ago, Dean thinks to himself.

“You still remember how I like my coffee,” Dean says after taking a sip. Cas laughs quietly at that, and Dean’s smile widens.

“You used to complain a lot about your coffee, so of course I remember,” he says lightly.

Dean puts his half empty cup on the table. He can feel Cas’ gaze boring into him. Suddenly he feels vulnerable. He scratches his cheek and laughs nervously. “You know, I did say I wanted to talk, but now that we’re here, I don’t even know what to say.”

Cas smiles, as if encouraging him to go on.

“More like, I don’t even know where to start.” Dean takes a breath and looks at Cas in the eyes. “Apologizing won’t even cover it. Like, I’m truly sorry, I really am, I’ve never been sorrier in my entire life, and I’m giving you a full right to strangle the life out of me right now.”

For a second, Cas stops breathing. He closes his eyes and opens them again. There goes the lips-chewing again, Dean thinks. There is slight tremor in him before he takes a deep breath and relaxes. Through his eyelashes, he glances at Dean.

“Remember October 3rd? You took me to your house for the first time, and we—”

“—spent the afternoon in my garage, fixing Baby.” Dean smiles at the recollection. “Yeah, I remember.”

Castiel smiles too. “Remember what you said?”

Dean frowns, half confused and half trying to dig his memory of the words he uttered that day. He then shakes his head slowly.

“You explained how a car worked. And then I said that the human body was machinery. You asked me if I was a psychopath.”

Dean laughs. “Oh, yeah, I remember.”

Cas looks up at the ceiling, the smile never leaving his face. “I told you it was true. I told you that the human body, our amazing body, inspired a lot of machines we had at the time. A camera was inspired by how our eyes captured images and our brain translated the signals. And then the car,” he says softly. “You explained how a car worked. How air and fuels passed through the pistons and cylinders, circulating until it came out as combustion gas, and the car moved.”

“You told me it was the same principle of human’s blood circulation,” Dean finishes. He feels something heavy, and he turns to look at Cas. “What’s wrong, Cas?” He doesn’t mean to sound so desperate.

“I’m giving you an out now, Dean.”

“I’ve never wanted an out.”

“You did. You left.”

“It was a mistake. I’ve learnt. I learnt that being out of your life killed me. Now I won’t.”

“You will.”

“It’s something for me to decide.”

The silence is deafening, and Dean holds his breath.

Without looking at Dean, Cas rests his head on Dean’s shoulder. Dean slings his arm around him, pulling him closer. Cas isn’t warm, but he’s never been. The blue-eyed man closes his eyes and sighs contentedly. Seeing the steady rise and fall of Cas’ chest makes Dean think for a split second that everything is okay. That they’re going to beat their past and start a future together.

But then Cas’ fingers find Dean’s hand and he threads them on the spaces between Dean’s fingers. They fit perfectly, like it’s been made for him all along. Cas’ fingers are cold against Dean’s warm ones.

There is a faint sigh; a vague premonition of something forthcoming, something that shouldn’t be.

“I have a defect in my machine,” Cas says.

Dean’s fingers tighten. “I’m a great mechanic. Nothing I can’t fix,” he replies.

Cas laughs and it sounds so pure. Dean kisses his temple, grateful that Cas doesn’t flinch, and he whispers right in his ear, “What’s wrong, Cas?”

“It’s called Congestive Heart Failure,” Cas breathes, and there is an air of finality in his words; an affirmation of a mistake, of something that shouldn’t have happened. His eyelashes flutter in distress, but Dean kisses the crown of his head and he calms.

The silence stretches, and Dean, with fingers intertwined and breaths coming out in unison with Castiel’s, listens.

* * *

 

Dean listens when Cas says he’s had the disease for almost three years now. He listens when Cas says he was in stage B when he first knew he had the disease. He listens when Cas says that he fought against the illness for two years, downing pills after pills, doing ECG after ECG, before finally being told by his doctor that his disease ascended to stage C. He listens when Cas says his life changed, and how he lost everything and wanted to die.

With every syllables Cas says, a little piece of Dean dies inside. He breathes a bit heavily, his fingers hold Cas’ a bit tightly.

“Only fifty percent of heart failure patient survive after five years,” Cas says. “And the survival rate of a heart failure patient within a year is twenty four percent.”

Dean feels Cas’ eyes on him, and he knows Cas is waiting for him to say something. But Dean doesn’t know what to say, and he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, there will only be strings of curses and choked sobs.

Cas closes his eyes and sighs. “So, I’m going to die,” he states. The air is thick with hopelessness, and Dean swallows a lump in his throat. He draws Cas closer, relishing the feeling of his lithe body against him.

“We all are,” Dean responds.

“I can’t make you go through this,” Cas insists, his voice breaking. He trembles. There is a lump in his throat and heat in his eyes, but he keeps all those tears to himself.

With that, everything unravels.

“You’re scared,” Dean states breathlessly. He turns his face to look straight at Cas’ electrifying blue eyes, seeing past the mask of ice.

Cas looks up at Dean. “Yes, of course I’m scared!” he raises his voice, his hand fisted and trembling. The next one comes out in a faint, barely audible whisper, “I can’t watch you leave, Dean. Not again. There are only so many times I’m okay with that.”

“Then I won’t,” Dean reassures, and he surges forward to take Castiel into a warm embrace. Strings of _Cas, dying, heart disease, three weeks_ are dancing on his head, but he feels clearer than ever. Dean kisses Cas’ forehead. “I’m not here from day one, but I’ll be with you till the end of the line.”

And then, finally, tears slide down Cas’ cheek. Dean holds his face carefully and Cas leans to the touch. His eyes flutter close, and he nods. “Okay,” he rasps. “Okay.”

Dean manages a small smile and gives Cas a chaste kiss to his lips. It’s cold and salty, but Dean doesn’t care. He just stays there, lips hovering over Cas’ while his breath ghosts over Castiel’s face.

They stay like that for a long time.

When the tears cease to fall, Cas tries to even his breathing. He smiles—nothing like the old grin stretching ear-to-ear—but it’s sincere, and for Dean, that is enough.

* * *

 

Night falls all too quickly, and now the Impala has been safely parked in Cas’ garage. All the doors and windows are locked. The coming winter brings cold and quietness into Pontiac.

After a particularly spectacular dinner, Dean and Cas sit together in the red sofa, feet tangled, with a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They’re watching reruns of Criminal Minds now, and Cas just enjoys the commentary provided by Dean.

The clock is pointing at ten, and as the night progresses, it gets colder and colder for Cas. He can’t suppress a shiver, drawing Dean’s attention.

“Time to go to sleep,” he warns lightly.

“Ten minutes. Please, until I know the killer,” Cas replies. Dean sighs in defeat. He’s a sucker for those puppy eyes.

“Okay, but just ten,” Dean states his ultimatum, to which Cas nods.

Dean drapes a blanket to cover Cas’ body, and the dark-haired man sighs happily. He leans on Dean’s chest, shifting a little to get a comfortable position. Dean holds him by the waist. A few minutes later has Cas resting his head on the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean rubs soothing circle on his waist, and Cas can’t help but smile with his eyes drooping.

The ending credit shows and Dean checks the clock. It’s more than ten minutes, but he’s also absorbed in the episode that he doesn’t check. The green-eyed man is going to force Cas to really go to bed this time, but the view makes him stop and smile. There, in his arms, Cas has fallen asleep, his body relaxed and the blueness of his eyes hidden from view.

Dean is captivated by him, and he spends a minute or so just looking at his sleeping figure. He mentally counts the steady rise and fall of Cas’ chest. When he’s done, deciding that he doesn’t want to bother him, Dean heaves the man up into his arms. Like he has expected, the man doesn’t weigh much. Maybe the heart disease has taken its toll on him after all.

To think about it, Cas hasn’t given him a grand tour of the house, but he finds himself able to locate Castiel’s room by himself. It’s in the second floor, the farthest in the hall. The room is everything Dean imagines Cas’ to be. Books are stacked neatly on the wooden shelf along with some things—toys or decorations, mostly. The nightstand is almost empty save for a lamp and a notebook. An unfinished paper is torn from it. There is a telescope near the window, and Dean chuckles low under his breath. He remembers that telescope. Cas had _begged_ Michael, his older brother, to be given that as a birthday present. Oh, the joy in his eyes when he found that neatly wrapped under the Christmas tree.

Dean sets Cas down on his bed. The cover has a bee motif in it, just like Cas used to like. Dean covers his torso with a thick blanket until only his head shows. He smiles and kisses Cas goodnight before turning around.

There’s a rustling, and Cas sits up, his hair rumpled already. “‘ere you g’ng?” he asks in a low, sleep-induced voice.

“I’m gonna sleep too,” Dean answers. “Go back to sleep, Cas. You need it. I know you’re really tired.”

“C’mere. Stay,” Castiel asks. Dean hesitates. “Please,” Castiel asks again, and Dean nods.

“Okay.”

Dean shuffles up on the bed, and Cas shifts so they can get a good position. The bed is big enough for two grown men to sleep with a gap between them, but Dean is drawn to Cas. He finds himself throwing one to circle Castiel’s hips and another beneath the body. Cas snuggles closer and buries his face on Dean’s chest, and Dean sighs contentedly into Cas’ hair. He places a sleepy kiss on Cas’ earlobe before drifting off to sleep.

Cas looks up, and he sees Dean’s peaceful expression. He smiles softly. The blue-eyed man places his hand over Dean’s, squeezing it lightly before he, too, lets sleep claim him.

The sound of the night is a beautiful melody, but inside 425 Westview Drive, the steady breathe coming out in unison from two men works wonder to make things seem alright.

* * *

 

When Dean wakes up, it’s to the sound of birds chirping outside and the ray of light streaming through the window. He opens his eyes blearily, looking at his surrounding with mind still half-asleep. At first he frowns at the unfamiliar sight, before he remembers that he’s in Castiel’s room.

Something clicks within him. He’s in Cas’ room, sitting up on Cas’ bed, and just spent the night sleeping with Cas.

_This is certainly not happening._

Dean slaps his face and it stings. _So this isn’t a dream_. Dean looks momentarily stunned because of this realization.

Five minutes later, he drags himself out of the comfort of the bed. The clock hanging on the wall shows that it’s a little past 10. He must’ve sleep through his exhaustion.

After spending some time to make the bed, his feet bring him to the kitchen. He can already smell pancake from the bottom of the stairs. Cas is making pancake with a smile on his face. Dean almost melts at the sight of Cas wearing a bee apron.

Cas turns around to serve the pancake. He smiles when he notices Dean standing on the doorway. “Hey. Come on, I made pancakes. I hope you still like it?”

“Hell yeah I do,” Dean answers. He sits down on the chair and Cas puts two pancakes on his plate and drizzles apple syrup on it.

“Wait,” Dean stops Cas. The blue-eyed man turns around to look at him questioningly, and Dean grabs Cas’ wrist and pulls him for a quick morning kiss. When they’re done, Cas’ cheeks are a little bit flushed and Dean grins at that. “Thanks, baby.”

“Of course.” Cas smiles and turns to take off his apron and fold it in one of the kitchen cabinet. He takes frozen berries from the fridge, and Dean notices the abundant amount of blueberries. Dean remembers Cas’ obsession toward the fruit and chuckles.

Cas takes the berries and put it on the dining table. He puts those berries on top of his pancake and adds honey.

“Hey,” Dean calls out and pats his laps. Cas frowns slightly before he makes a small _oh_ noise and blushes. “Come on, Cas,” Dean encourages with a wide grin.

Cas chews his lips in uncertainty before nodding. He sits on Dean’s laps, putting as little weight as he can on the firm thighs. Dean wraps his arm around Cas’ waist and pulls him down to place a kiss on his neck. Cas fumbles with an yelp, his hand instinctually coming up to hold on to Dean’s arm. Dean laughs and pampers his boyfriend with more butterfly kisses.

“Dean, don’t!” Cas laughs and flails a little on Dean’s embrace. “No, don’t, stop, it tick— _ah_ —les!”

“What is it? Don’t stop? Okay then, if you say so,” Dean teases, pulling Cas tighter on his embrace. The loose gray shirt Cas wears rides up, exposing the pale skin of his abdomen. Dean tickles it and Cas bursts out in tears. His laughter fills the room, and Dean grins along. Cas’ laugh makes him so happy.

“Oh my god, Dean—” Cas heaves a breathe between laughter and he soon is panting. “Stop, please—”

“No can do, baby,” Dean whispers and places another kiss on Cas’ neck. He soon feels something stir within him and he kisses the spot harder. He grazes his teeth on the skin and gives it a testing nip. When Cas’ laughter stops and his breath hitches, Dean knows he loves it.

Dean bites down, this time a little harder, but not enough to hurt. Cas shuts his eyes and sighs, his hands coming up to circle around Dean’s neck. Dean trails light kisses across Cas’ neck before nipping lightly at his jaw. It creates a small bruise and he lavishes it. Cas’ head lolls on Dean’s shoulder and he shudders. Dean can feel his panting from the hot breath on his neck.

“Been wanting this for so long,” Dean whispers, the words ghosting over Cas’ left ear. “You feel so good, Cas, my angel.”

Cas raises his head and tightens his hold around Dean’s neck. His legs dangle on both sides of Dean’s thighs where he’s sitting upright with their foreheads touching. The first touch of their lips is light, chaste, and uncertain. Dean holds Cas close, one arm snaking around the slim waist and another supporting Cas’ back. Cas closes his eyes.

“I love you,” he breathes, and there’s a fleeting desperation mixed with hope there. His eyes flutter open, blue eyes boring down into Dean’s soul.

Dean smiles. “I love you too,” he whispers and kisses his lover again.

The kiss stays calm and light before Dean shifts Cas’ position on his lap. A moan escapes from Cas and Dean captures it with a more passionate kiss. He soon nudges on Cas’ lips to ask for an entrance, for which the blue-eyed man grants. Cas holds Dean tight and he squirms when the taller man explores his mouth fervently; his tongue licking and probing the inside of his mouth, eliciting pleasured gasps from him.

The first one to break the kiss is Cas because of the lack of air in his lungs. He’s panting and his face is flushed. Dean uses one hand to touch his face gently, and he smiles at him.

Cas smiles tiredly and leans his forehead on Dean’s. He has his eyes closed, and Dean is left to admire the beauty of his lover. Cas’ warm breath tickles his nostril, and his slightly parted lips are inviting. But Dean stays there, just holding Cas close to him, relishing the steady rise and fall of his chest and his rhythmic heartbeat in its ribcage.

Like this, even if only for a split second, Dean feels like Cas isn’t dying, the world isn’t ending, and they’re actually going to be together again.

Just like this, with Cas in his arms, Dean feels like everything is going to be alright.

Cas opens his eyes. His smile hasn’t faded. He places a kiss on Dean’s cheek and asks quietly, “We should eat the pancakes. It’s not good when it’s already cold.”

“Okay,” Dean answers simply. Cas then tries to get off of Dean’s lap, but he holds him in place. When the dark-haired man looks puzzled, Dean kisses him again and says, “I’ll get it for both of us, don’t worry.”

Cas’ smile widens and he replies with a nod and an, “Okay,” said in whisper.

Dean adjusts Cas’ position on his lap once more. When he’s sure that Cas feels comfortable, he takes Cas’ plate closer. It’s a little bit difficult to cut the pancake in his position, and Cas has offered his help numerous times, but every time Dean just brushes him off.

When Dean feeds Cas the first spoon of pancake, the smaller man looks hesitant. He brushes a hair to the back of his ear and takes a bite. After that he visibly relaxes. Cas looks like he’s enjoying himself so much, and Dean can’t help that spark of pride blooming within him.

The next few spoons aren’t as awkward as the first one. Dean constantly switches between feeding Cas his pancake and taking a bit from his own. This is of course slower than the usual breakfast, but none of them are in a hurry, and they’re both more than happy to take their time and relish the moment.

“Your cooking is still so good,” Dean comments after he finishes chewing. Cas eats another piece of pancake from the spoon Dean is holding.

“I just don’t really have anything better to do,” Cas replies.

“Oh, yeah, now that you’ve mentioned it, where do your brothers live now?” Dean asks. He has already finished his breakfast whereas Cas is only halfway through.

Cas pushes his plate farther and shaking his head, indicating that he doesn’t want to eat anymore. Dean steals the remaining pancake for him to eat. Cas rolls his eyes.

This time, Dean doesn’t stop Cas from flopping off from his lap. Cas collects all the dirty dishes and puts them in the sink. He opens the freezer to take ice cream.

“I guess it’s story time?” he asks with a smile.

“Definitely. I owe you some stories.” Dean grins wide and helps Cas carry his things to the living room. There’s a big beige couch with some pillows with the same color lined neatly. Dean switches on the big 42 inch TV and wanders through some channels before stopping on a channel airing automotive news.

Cas sits down on the couch and squirms to find a perfect position. He sighs and relaxes back on the comfortable couch. Before he can do anything else, though, Dean is already resting his head on his lap.

“Is it okay like this?” Dean asks.

Cas chuckles. “Of course,” he answers. Not a moment later, Dean already turns his body so he’s facing the TV, and Cas reaches the ice cream container. It’s still rather full, since no one has ever bothered to finish it.

Dean turns around to look up at Cas again before asking, “Ready to tell the story?”

“It’s not really a story,” Cas says and chews his bottom lips as if he’s thinking. He scoops a spoonful of ice cream and licks it tentatively before eating it entirely.

Dean waits patiently, focusing on the waves of emotion in Cas’ face. He extends a hand to caress Cas’ cheek gently, and Cas unconsciously leans in to the touch.

“It’s okay, baby,” Dean assures, and he can feel Cas’ long, tired exhale.

Cas threads his fingers through Dean’s hair, eliciting a soft sigh from the light brown-haired man. Cas smiles softly and begins, “It’s not a story, not really.”

“Gabriel owns a candy store. He lives here—in Pontiac, I mean—but he has his own apartment. I used to have an apartment too, but I decided to live here again for some reasons…” Cas’ words trail off, and his eyes look lost for a moment.

“Lucifer is living abroad. He’s now in Italy, working as a photographer. No one really expects him to dwell on photography, but there he is now. He came home on Thanksgiving, and he said he started dating with a model named Lilith. He looked so happy—well, as happy as Luci can be,” Cas laughs, “And he called me the other day, saying he’s coming home in a few weeks. I guess that means some time in the next week.”

Cas stops for a while, eyes sparking with fond memories, and the sight of it brings a smile on Dean’s face. His fingers are still absentmindedly stroking Dean’s hair. “Go on, I wanna hear more,” he encourages.

Cas chuckles. “Okay, okay. Well, there’s Raphael. He’s taking his Doctorate in English Literature in London. He doesn’t call quite as much, but he always brings tea and cakes when he comes home, so he’s forgiven,” Cas tells. “What else?”

“Whatever you want to tell me,” Dean hums and closes his eyes, nudging at Cas to continue stroking his hair when he stops.

“Well, I think you remember Balthazar,” Cas adds.

Dean groans audibly and Cas giggles at that. “Of course I remember that bastard. He and Gabriel were making my life a living Hell back when I dated you,” he mutters, his mind replaying a memory from six years ago where Balthazar and Gabriel were giving him sexual innuendos with Cas standing innocently—well, as innocent as the brother and friend of Gabriel Novak and Balthazar Roche can be—between them.

“Oh, that reminds me, that ‘bastard’ is going to come by tomorrow. Him and Gadreel, actually.”

“Oh, Gadreel. How’s he now? He was always the sane one. If it wasn’t because of him, I don’t know how I would be able to shake Bal and Gabe off.”

“Yes, I remember. You were hanging along with them just fine back then.”

“Just fine my ass,” Dean mutters under his breath, and Cas giggles again.

“Balthazar is working as in marketing at Sandover. Coincidentally, Gadreel also ends up in the same company. He’s the Director’s PA,” Cas explains, twirling one of Dean’s long hair with his finger.

“I guess that’s the reason Bal is still on the job,” Dean comments. Cas actually really laughs at that. Dean grins and touches Cas’ face to bring it down. Cas complies and brushes a strand of hair falling to his face and places a light kiss on Dean’s lips.

Cas hovers his face close to Dean’s, and Dean hums contentedly. “You’re really something else, y’know?” He kisses Cas again, still as tender as before. “Anything else you wanna tell me? I wanna hear them all.”

Cas closes his eyes and retracts his face. He goes back to stroking Dean’s hair. He tries to match his breath to the rise and fall of Dean’s chest. Cas smiles, a bit bitterly and with sad eyes that Dean thinks doesn’t suit him.

“And then there’s Michael,” Cas breathes out like it’s hard to say it.

Again, Dean waits patiently.

“Michael is a doctor now. He lives in New York. You probably remember him as stern and cold, and he hasn’t really changed. I know he’s a great brother, and he’s always working hard to … to buy my medicine. And, um, he’s … he—”

“Cas?”

Cas stops when he feels Dean’s hand warm against his face. He then realizes that he’s crying. There’s a drop of his tears on Dean’s face, and Cas gently wipes them off. He rubs his face and stops more tears from falling. Dean is still caressing his cheek gently, coaxing him into a sense of warmth and security.

Just like before, Dean is patient, waiting. At least he tries so he can make up for the jerk he was to Cas years ago. “What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asks softly.

Castiel has always been calm and quiet. He smiles, not grins. He chuckles, not laughs. Only occasionally would he behave otherwise.

So Dean isn’t entirely surprised when Cas cries in silence. He stops his tears almost immediately, and he doesn’t sob. He looks momentarily lost, and he brings his hand up to hold on to Dean’s. Dean still waits.

“Michael, he’s—he hasn’t come home in years. Not since he became a doctor. He always sends money and letters, but he’s never home. I never see him, Dean. I wanted to believe that he’s only busy. God, I _desperately_ clung to that hope like an idiot. I guess I’m just too scared of the truth,” Cas smiles bitterly. He squeezes Dean’s hand, making the latter feels the growing coldness from the tips of Cas’ fingers.

Cas looks down on Dean, small and broken even without tears. His next words come out as a barely audible whisper, “Do you think he hates me?”

“No, Cas,” Dean responds. He gets up and immediately hugs Cas tightly. Cas buries his face on the crook of Dean’s neck, his slightly ragged breath hot against his skin. “Michael is everything but that.”

“How would you know?” Cas whispers again.

“I know,” Dean states sternly. “I know, because Michael is the one threatening to kill me if I hurt you when I said I was dating you. Michael is the one I had to ask for permission from the first time we had a date. Michael is the one replying my message by, ‘Thank you for making him happy.’ Michael is the one giving me subtle hints of how supportive he really is, and how seeing you happy is the greatest thing he could have. Yes, he had his flaws, and he’s being a dick. But I know he’s just afraid. You guys were practically inseparable, and you’re the most important thing to him. He just can’t … see you.”

Cas is quiet. Only his steady breathing tells Dean he’s still there.

“I know that. I’m just scared that he’s changed like I do,” Cas says. Dean doesn’t know what to say anymore and just tightens his embrace. He kisses the top of Cas’ head.

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you,” he finally utters before giving another kiss, now in Cas’ forehead.

“I know,” Cas says with his voice wavering. “Thank you.”

They stay like that for a solid ten minutes. Cas is quiet. He still doesn’t cry because Dean knows he’s a strong, stubborn ass.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie instead? I know you have DVDs somewhere,” Dean offers.

Cas retracts himself from Dean’s embrace and Dean doesn’t hold him back. “Okay,” Cas says, his voice already returning to normal.

“Okay,” Dean replies with a grin, and he pecks Cas’ lips lightly before rousing up to search the shelf under the TV. Cas stands up too. Dean looks at him questioningly. Cas only shows the ice cream container and Dean nods in understanding.

When Cas comes back with another ice cream container, this time vanilla flavored with Oreo crumbs. Dean is ready in the couch with the TV’s remote in hand. Cas sits down and snuggles closer to Dean. Dean immediately wraps his arm around Cas.

“What are we watching?” Cas asks.

“I kinda miss The Lord of the Rings,” Dean answers. He presses play and soon the TV is showing the opening scene of The Lord of the Rings.

Cas doesn’t protest. He knows Dean has been a big fan of the franchise since forever, and he’s content just where he is now. He opens the container and scoops the ice cream. He’s not a big fan of Oreo, and he usually doesn’t eat ice cream, but with the domesticity shown by him snuggled with Dean while watching TV, he figures ice cream is somehow mandatory.

“Want some?” Cas asks, his eyes drooping lazily.

Dean hums and Cas feeds him the ice cream. Soon, the position becomes a bit tiring for Cas, and he slumps down. The blue-eyed man then fixes his position to resting his head on Dean’s lap; the opposite of their initial position. Dean does nothing but raise a brow, and Cas bribes him with another spoon of ice cream.

The movie is playing the scene where Bilbo is reluctant on giving the One Ring to Gandalf when Cas, while still feeding Dean, chirps, “I thought you didn’t like The Lord of the Rings.”

Dean looks at Cas like he personally offended his ancestors. “Cas, anyone who hates Lord of The Rings is not to be trusted,” Dean answers.

Cas chuckles at Dean’s expression. “But there was that time when I asked you to watch it together and you refused,” he replies.

“That was because I had Aliens. I don’t see any Aliens in your DVD collection, so Lord of The Rings will do.” Dean gulps down his ice cream before adding, “Besides, you have a crush on Lord of The Rings series, right? I just wanna treat you sometimes.”

Cas wipes the grin off Dean’s face by stuffing more ice cream to his mouth. “It’s not that I have a crush on it. Tolkien is simply a remarkable writer,” he declines with a smarty look.

“You can sugarcoat it all you want, but it’ll never restrain me from knowing that you’re smitten with these ring-obsessed tiny men.”

“They’re called hobbits, mind you.”

“It’s like Sauron lost his wedding ring and his bride is gonna kill him or something. And to top that, his tower crumbles down. That’s like, wow, that guy’s getting a kick to his balls.”

“You just insulted the work of one of the most influential writers of the 20th century.” Cas sits up, widens his eyes, and places a hand on his chest as a fake disbelief gesture, although he can’t suppress the grin growing on his lips.

“It’s not called insulting. I’m merely stating the fact here.”

“It’s not a fact!” Cas laughs. “Please give me a scientifically tested prove to justify for you so-called fact.”

“Babe, everything I say is an absolute truth. How do you think Einstein discovered the theory of relativity?” Dean responds in all seriousness. Cas can’t hold his laughter. Dean just grins at how happy his boyfriend looks.

“No, it isn’t. You don’t even know what the theory is about.” Cas manages to say between giggles.

“It’s true,” Dean insists with a wide grin. “I called him to tell him that E = mc2. I was being humble so I let him patented the theory as his.”

Cas shoves a pillow on his lover’s face. “Shut up,” he says, still giggling.

“Never,” Dean replies after taking the pillow off his face. Cas is ready with another pillow, but Dean is faster. He catches Cas’ wrist and throws the pillow away. He maneuvers and tackles Cas down on the couch, trapping his lithe body below him.

“You’re such a big nerd,” Dean says, smiling down at Cas.

“Bully,” Cas replies with a smile as wide as Dean’s. He lightly shoves at Dean, but he doesn’t budge. “Hey, I wanna watch the movie.”

“But I like it like this,” Dean says before placing a light kiss on the tip of Cas’ nose. The dark-haired man blushes and Dean’s grin widens. “And I can see you liking it, too,” he teases.

“Try harder,” Cas challenges.

“Do you really wanna go that way?” Dean asks, his eyes glinting with amusement and mischief.

Soon, Cas realizes this and his smile fades. “No, I take that back, I take that back!” Cas says frantically. “Dean Winchester, if you dare to do anything, I swear to God I’m going to—”

“Going to do what?” Dean cuts him off, grinning, and tickles him. Cas bursts out into laughter as he tries in vain to get his boyfriend off him. Dean targets his belly as usual, but he’s careful not to make Cas too breathless.

“You,” Cas wheezes, “are a jerk.”

“And you love me,” Dean says, finally stops tickling his boyfriend, although not without a smug grin in his face.

Cas opens his mouth, ready to reply with something witty, before he closes it again. “You’re unbelievable,” he decides to say, smiling softly as he flings his arm around Dean’s neck and pull his lover for a quick kiss. “But I can’t argue with that.”

Dean grins and kisses Cas again. “You’re so amazing,” he whispers. “How do I ever deserve you, I’ll never know.”

Cas smiles and lets Dean kiss every inch of his face. The dark-haired man just closes his eyes and relishes the feel of his lover’s lips against his skin. Dean then becomes a bit daring by travelling south to mouth at his jaw and neck. Cas squirms a bit when Dean kisses his pulse point and sucks it. Dean’s hand cradles his face gently while his other hand comes to rest on Cas’ shoulder to keep him there.

“You’re just so beautiful,” Dean breathes in Cas’ ear, adoration and love clear in his voice, and Cas feels so overwhelmed he’s going to cry.

When Dean plants his lips on Cas’ once again, Cas feels the warmth radiating throughout his whole body, and he feels all tingly like there are butterflies in his stomach. There’s the toe-curling sensation he never expects to experience again; he’s not a teenager anymore, after all. But here he is, feeling warm and fuzzy and in love all over again because of a man who has stolen his heart, and gives him his in return.

Cas opens his eyes to see Dean hovering so close to his face. His eyelashes flutter and his face is flushed when he whispers, “You’ve made me fall for you again, Dean Winchester.”

The warmth of Dean’s laugh gets Castiel smiling, his fingers carding over Dean’s short, light brown hair, holding the bigger man in place as he places a feather light kiss on his lips.

“God, you’re so…” Cas laughs almost breathlessly.

“Awesome?” Dean grins.

Cas looks at him with a wide smile. “Exhilarating,” he adds. His cold fingers trace Dean’s freckles, cupping the man’s face in his hands. Cas’ eyes softens as he holds Dean there, without breaking eye contact, and says, “You can’t make me too happy, Dean. My heart won’t be able to take it and I might die.”

“Ever so dramatic.” Dean rolls his eyes, but his grin gets wider.

“I learn from the best,” Cas teases lightly, and Dean runs a hand over the crest of Cas’ abdomen, and the blue-eyed man slaps him with a warning glare. “Don’t you dare.”

“Sorry, babe,” Dean says, although his grin says otherwise.

A rather loud noise from the TV screen distracts the two men from each other. “Oh, I missed a lot,” Cas sighs.

“Hey, not my fault.” Dean throws his hands up in mock surrender.

Cas squints at him and playfully, “Of course not.”

“That hurts my fragile heart, Cas,” Dean says with a fake sad pout, his hand coming up to hold his chest.

“I should be doing that. I’m the one with a heart disease after all,” Cas says lightly with a giggle. But then Dean goes silent and the situation quickly becomes uncomfortable. Cas shuts down, guilt in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not comfortable with talking about this. I should’ve considered your state.”

Dean smiles reassuringly and coaxes Cas back into comfort by holding Cas’ hand and brings it up for him to kiss the knuckles. “No, don’t be. I wanna hear it all. Your jokes, your story; everything,” he says affectionately.

Dean’s reassurance relaxes Cas, judging by the tension seeping out of him. He nods. “Let’s just watch the movie, shall we?” he offers in a quiet voice.

Dean nods and positions himself to be lying on the couch. He pulls Cas gently against his chest. Cas looks momentarily surprised, but he’s more than happy to comply. The man soon finds himself snuggled comfortably with Dean.

“You like being a big spoon, huh?” Cas teases a little, easing back so his back is perfectly flushed against Dean’s broad chest.

“Mm-hmm,” Dean hums, too content to say anything. He puts one hand over Cas’ waist to hold him. Cas places his hand on Dean’s and he intertwines their fingers. Dean’s fingers feel warm against Cas’ cold ones. Dean kisses Cas’ nape before he settles his chin on his lover’s shoulder.

For the rest of the movie, they’re both perfectly content in their position without a single word emitting from them. Cas’ breath is in sync with the inhale and exhale from Dean’s lungs. Cas’ eyes are still focused on the TV, but he knows Dean has dozed off. But whenever Cas shifts even a little bit to find a cozier position, Dean always moves unconsciously before pulling Cas close again.

The credit is rolling when Cas eases out of Dean’s hold. Sensing the absence of his boyfriend, Dean opens his eyes. “Where you goin’?” he asks blearily.

“I’m going to get sandwich and change the movie,” Cas says softly before bowing down to caress Dean’s face affectionately. “Go back to sleep, Dean.”

“Hurry,” Dean replies with his eyes already closed.

Cas smiles and takes the half empty ice cream container and puts it in the freezer. He spends no time making the sandwich. He remembers that Dean loves bacon, so he adds an extra slice in his sandwich. He stands with hands in his hips to look at the sandwiches then smiles and nods after satisfied by it.

He uses a tray to bring the plate of sandwiches alongside two orange juices to the living room and putting it in the small table near the couch. The blue-eyed man then crouches down to take out the DVD. After putting it on its place, he reaches up to the top shelf where he puts The Lord of the Rings 2. He needs to tiptoe a bit since he isn’t tall enough to reach it.

“Quite a show there,” Dean hums.

Cas turns around to see his lover lying on his side with his hand propping his head, grinning at the sight in front of him. He realizes that Dean is staring at his exposed skin where his shirt has rode up because of the stretching he’s done to get the DVD.

“Enjoying what you see?” Cas teases as he stands back in his feet. Dean flicks his tongue in disappointment.

Quickly, Cas plays the DVD and goes back to snuggling with his beloved boyfriend. Dean is more than happy to have him back on his embrace. He kisses Cas’ shoulder, making the smaller man sigh contentedly.

“Just sleep if you want to. I’ll wake you after the movie ends,” Cas tells Dean while rubbing soothing circles on Dean’s hand.

“No,” Dean mumbles. “I don’t wanna miss a thing.”

“You’ve watched this movie before with me, remember?” Cas reminds him. He unconsciously leans back to the feeling of Dean’s lips against his skin. Dean wraps his arm tighter around him.

“No, not the movie. You.” Dean makes his point by kissing Cas’ shoulder once again. The taller man softly whispers, “I don’t wanna miss you.”

Cas laughs quietly. “Since when did you get so touchy-feely?” he asks, rolling his head to look at Dean directly with a glint in his eyes.

“Your sappiness is infectious, y’know,” Dean adds.

Cas smiles and rests his temple against Dean’s forehead. Their breaths are warm against each other’s skin. “Maybe,” the blue-eyed man hums thoughtfully. He looks at Dean again, smiling wider. “But you like it.”

“I love it,” Dean whispers the words against Cas’ lips.

Cas turns away to watch his movie, but he keeps his hand entwined with Dean. He only sits up to eat his sandwich (and Dean really likes his, judging from the orgasmic-like groan he emits) and go to the toilet. The rest of the time is spent cuddling with his boyfriend.

At some point around half past three, when the third movie has just played for ten minutes, Cas falls asleep. He has been sleepy for quite a while; his eyelashes fluttering and eyes drooping every now and then. Dean notices it and tries to coax Cas into comfort. He rubs Cas’ arm soothingly, and he occasionally kisses his nape or shoulder. Cas sighs quietly in pleasure and eases back to Dean.

Dean keeps doing the soothing gesture, smiling when he feels his lover fallen into a slumber. He enjoys seeing Cas’ slightly parted lips; he’s brought back to when he first laid his lips on them. Dean still remembers everything. He was a senior while Cas was still in his sophomore year. Dean, who was the famous new student, had laid his eyes on the nerdy Castiel the first time he saw him. And then, three months after chasing Cas, he was there, in the empty hill near school with Cas. It was night, and Dean had snuck out of his house to go see Cas. He had promised him to show him something magical.

Cas was smiling all along, asking Dean what was going on. Dean only smiled secretively. Cas turned to ask one more time when Dean places one hand on his face, holding him delicately, and kisses the boy for the first time. Cas was surprised, but he melts into it, closing his eyes and gripping the front of Dean’s shirt. But he almost jumps when there was a loud bang.

Dean laughed and grinned widely. Cas followed his stare and grinned too. The sky was exploding with colorful fireworks. Dean handed him one and they enjoyed the rest of the night watching the fireworks while sneaking kisses in between.

It was one of the happiest moments of Dean’s life.

Dean is brought back from his daydream when Cas shifts a little in his sleep. A soft smile blooms on Dean’s face as he keeps stroking Cas’ arm. He can see the TV screen from his place—not the best angle, sure, but it’ll do—and decides to watch the movie. He has watched the movie before with Cas, as Cas has stated earlier, but he’s still interested to see what happens. The Lord of the Rings isn’t called one of the most epic series for no reason.

One hour into the show, now Dean is the one called by nature. He frowns, thinking of the pros and cons. He certainly doesn’t want to wake Cas up, god knows he needs the best rest he can get, but his bladder won’t compromise. After much debate with himself, he decides he really needs to go the toilet.

The mechanic tries to move as quietly as he can as to not wake his boyfriend up. He very slowly retracts his arm from under Cas’ body and tries to put him into a comfortable position. Cas stirs a little in his sleep, to which Dean stops dead in his track with watchful eyes looking at him, but other than that little movement he’s still fast asleep.

Dean finishes his business quickly. When he returns to Cas’ side, he’s still sleeping peacefully. Dean smiles and sits in front of him. He takes hold on his lover’s hand and squeezes lightly. Cas still isn’t awake. Dean crouches down and brings his lips closer to Cas’ hand, kissing the knuckles softly. As he lays his head on the edge of the sofa, his eyes focused entirely on Cas, he smiles and thinks of how much he loves his sweet angel.

After fifteen whole minutes spent on watching Cas, Dean realizes he couldn’t give a damn about the movie. It’s about to end anyway, and Dean already knows the ending and it’s all that matters.

As quietly as he can, Dean puts an arm under the lower part of Cas’ shoulders and another under his knees. He slowly carries him. Cas’ head lolls to Dean’s chest, and he stirs a bit.

“It’s okay,” Dean shushes him affectionately. “Go back to sleep, Cas.”

Cas murmurs some unintelligible sound under his breath, but his steady breath afterwards tells Dean that he’s already back to his sleep. With careful and steady steps, he carries Cas back to his room. Dean lays him gently on the bed, eyes him with a fond smile before covering his body with a blanket. Cas looks like he’s enjoying his well needed rest, and Dean isn’t one to take such thing away from him.

Instead of watching Cas or even joining him, which costs Dean all his willpower not to do so, he goes back down to turn off the TV and put the plate and glasses to the sink. Now that Cas is sleeping, Dean realizes that he has nothing to do. Back at home, he’s usually still at Bobby’s, working some gigs to land him extra money.

Since there is nothing better for him to do, Dean decides to call Sam. He hasn’t called since he arrived yesterday, and he wants to tell Sam that he’s fine and is staying at Cas instead of staying with him.

Dean’s phone, it turns out, is at his duffle bag sitting in the living room. He fishes his phone out and turns it on. Soon it rings loudly with messages and missed calls. Dean cringes at the “14 missed calls from Sam” displayed; Sam is going to give him a good old lecture for sure.

His phone is answered in less than two seconds. More reason for Dean to cringe.

“Dean! Why didn’t answer my phone or texts? Where are you? Are you hurt? Did you get into trouble? Do I have to pick you up in police station?” Sam instantly bombards him with questions.

“Gee, nice to talk to you too, Sammy,” Dean says. He can almost feel the annoyed huff and the bitch face Sam is doing right now. “Change of plan. I’m staying at Cas.”

“You’re staying at Cas? He’s not kicking you out after the whole dickbaggery act you gave him?” Sam apparently has perfected his act of being so sarcastic he actually sounds genuinely surprised.

“Bitch,” Dean grumbles.

“Jerk,” Sam replies, and Dean immediately has a vision of Sam with a smug smirk plastered on his face.

“No, he didn’t. He’s … not an asshole like me, but you already know that,” Dean says again.

Sam is silent for a while, probably being sympathetic. “How is Cas doing? I haven’t met him in years. I miss him.”

“Yeah, he has that effect, alright.” Dean smiles softly. But then his smile falters when he remembers one important fact he has to tell Sam. Dean isn’t ready for this. To hear it is one thing. To say it out loud means acknowledging it, and Dean doesn’t want to. _Ignorance is blessing_ , he thinks bitterly.

“Dean? You okay?” Sam asks when the silence becomes too long to be normal.

Dean takes a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just, well, I got something to tell you,” Dean says. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself down. “It’s Cas, okay. He’s…”

“What happens with Cas?” Sam asks carefully.

“Cas is sick,” Dean says almost breathlessly.

Sam doesn’t say a word, but Dean knows that the gears are working on his brother’s brain. “Sick, like…?” Sam asks, his voice emitting uncertainty. He sounds like he’s hoping what he’s thinking isn’t actually true.

“Yeah, sick as in really sick,” Dean says. He covers his mouth and paces the room, suddenly feeling the weight of the world in his shoulders. He takes another deep breath to prevent any tears from falling. “He’s got this heart disease. And he … he’s dying, Sam, and I—I didn’t know. I had no idea.”

Another long silence stretches. Dean knows Sam is as surprised as him when he first heard the news. He’s also sure that now Sam doesn’t know how to comprehend with it.

“Fuck, I just … god, fuck. Fuck, fuck! Fuck!” Dean curses loudly, tears start brimming in his eyes.

“Dean,” Sam sounds sad. “Don’t.”

“How, Sammy? Cas is dying, and I’m not there for him. I just—I fucking cheated on him and left him without a word and now he just told me he’s been sick his whole life! Fuck, I probably made him worse, making him confused and crying and mad! God knows how much of a fucking jerk I was to him, but he … he forgave me, Sam. I don’t understand.” Dean is floating in waves of emotion, but he promises himself he won’t cry. He just realizes the weight of his action now, and how grateful he should be that Cas forgave him and even let him in to his life again after he fucked his life over.

“There is a second chance, Dean,” Sam says softly. “And Cas is giving you one. Don’t disappoint him.”

“I won’t, Sam. I can’t even think about that. He deserves so much more, you know, and he chooses me,” Dean replies in a low voice.

“Then don’t make him regret choosing you,” Sam says.

“I won’t,” Dean says again, more firmly this time.

Another silence, but Dean can feel the difference now. The silence is fond, welcomed, and he knows Sam is smiling in understanding on the other end of the line.

“So how are _you_ doing?” Sam finally asks.

Dean smiles. He sits down on a chair. “I’m good. You? Not fussing Jess, are you?”

“The same goes to you,” Sam replies. “But I’m great too. Jess’ parents are really nice. I think I’m gonna like it here.”

“Dean?”

Dean is about to reply when a raspy call cuts him off. He turns around to see Cas standing at the end of the stairs with squinty eyes and sleep-mussed hair. Dean smiles at him and gestures at his phone. Cas’ face lights up.

“Is it Sam?” he asks with a voice slightly rough with sleep.

As if on cue, Sam asks Dean too, “Is that Cas? Can I talk to him?”

Dean hands the phone to Cas, saying, “Sam wants to talk.”

Cas gladly accepts the phone. “Hi, Sam,” he greets.

“Hi, Cas. It’s been a long time, man. How’re you doing?” Sam replies. Cas smiles at the warmth in the tall man’s voice.

“I’m doing fine. Indeed, time sure flies. I hope you’re doing well,” Cas says.

“I’m great. Dean isn’t troubling you, is he? If he ever annoys you, just glue a beer to his hand or threaten him that you’ll tell people the story when he wetted his bed in first grade,” says Sam which makes Cas laugh.

Dean immediately accuses, “What? What did he tell you? Must be about me, wasn’t it?”

“Sam told me that if you ever bother me, I should glue a beer to your hand or threaten you that I will tell people the story when you wetted your bed in first grade,” Cas replies with a wide grin.

“Tell that son of a bitch I still have the photo of him in that Barbie boxer!” Dean exclaims, aiming for Sam to hear while grumbling.

“Dean asked me to tell you that you are an amazing brother who he loves very much and that he misses you greatly,” Cas says to Sam on the phone while covering his mouth with a hand to stifle his laugh.

“Cas, you bastard!” Dean exclaims and he goes to chase Cas.

Cas runs away laughing, but Dean catches him without breaking a sweat. Cas yells—okay, _squeals_ when Dean wraps his hands around Cas’ waist and lifts him easily as if he weighs nothing. Dean holds him there, up in the air with his feet hovering above the floor. Cas giggles as he wraps his arms around Dean’s neck. The blue-eyed man rests his forehead against Dean’s, his eyes fluttering close his breath warm on Dean’s skin. His laughter dies down to a small, content smile.

Dean smiles too, and kisses Cas’ lips softly. His hands grip at Cas’ waist a little bit tighter to prevent his hand from instinctively coming up to stroke Cas’ face.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean murmurs gently against Cas’ lips.

Cas’ laugh reverberates against Dean’s skin, making him feel warm and fuzzy. “You’ve said that a million times,” he whispers.

“And I’ll say it a million more,” Dean says, and kisses Cas’ breath away.

The kiss is gentle, calm, like a ripple in calm water. With how close Cas is, Dean can see everything. He can see the strands of dark hair falling on his face, the flutter of his eyelids, or the way his lips move to from a smile. Carefully, Dean lowers Cas down until his feet safely touches the floor. Cas is still holding his hand to circle Dean’s neck, and the smaller man looks up to steal a kiss.

“Ahem. I’m still here, guys.”

Dean and Cas nearly jump when the voice startles them. Cas quickly untangles his hands from around Dean’s neck and places his phone to his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Sam. I think we got, um, a little carried away,” Cas quickly apologizes in embarrassment.

Sam only laughs in response. “No, no, don’t worry. Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone to do your … _business_ ,” he says with a heavy accentuation at the end of the sentence, all the while smirking smugly.

Cas’ face immediately turns shades of pink. “It’s not like that!” he quickly says with a hushed voice. “And you can speak to Dean if you want. Really, it was … we got distracted. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m really sorry.”

“No, seriously, it’s fine. Jess is here anyway,” Sam says. “Oh, that’s right, you haven’t met Jess! She’s my girlfriend for, what, two years and counting. You should totally meet her. I have a feeling you guys will match.”

“Congratulations. It seems like she’s lovely,” Cas comments.

“She is. Which kinda reminds me, I’m actually planning to visit Dean to check up on him. Is it fine if Jess and I drop by some time in, say, maybe next week or the following?”

“No, it’s fine by me. I’ll be glad to see you again. It’s been too long,” Cas replies.

Sam beams, “Okay then, we’re all set! See you, Cas. Now you can get back to being all lovey-dovey with my brother.”

“Sam!”

Said man only laughs. “Dean, don’t forget to use protection!” Sam purposefully yells to the phone so both Cas and Dean can hear. Their faces heat up, and Sam giggles before ending the phone. Cas gives back Dean’s phone awkwardly. It’s weird that they are now grown up males, but after reuniting after being separated for six years, they seem to unable to function properly and instead goes back to acting like teenagers.

To be fair, they _are_ falling in love with each other all over again.

“I swear I’m gonna kill that kid,” Dean groans, smothering his face with both hands.

“Don’t, he’s nice,” Cas replies, cheeks still tinged pink from embarrassment.

“To you. He’s actually an asshole,” Dean says, to which Cas chuckles lightly.

“Oh, and I’m sorry for the bother earlier. That was so silly of me to fall asleep like that, _twice_ ,” Cas says again.

“You mean me carrying you to bed? Nah, don’t mention it.” Dean grins. “Besides, you’re only a little bit heavy.”

Cas squints his eyes. “Are you implying that I’m heavy, Winchester?” he asks, his lips quirked to form an amused smile.

“I dunno. Do you feel like it, Novak?” Dean replies with the same smile.

“Are you questioning me?” Cas’ smile grows wider. He shakes his head. “Or maybe you’re too weak to carry a sick little boy after all?”

“You’re gonna eat your words, Cas!” Dean says while grinning from ear-to-ear. Without warning, he surges forward and heaves Cas up into his arms.

Cas looks surprised at first, and his hands instinctively holds to Dean’s neck for protection. After the initial shock dies down rather quickly, the dark-haired man throws his head back and laughs. His legs flail a little. He’s smiling so wide, and Dean feels another rush of warmth and happiness surging through his body.

“Okay, okay! Oh my god. Stop carrying me like this, Dean, I’m not a bride,” Cas laughs, burying his face on Dean’s chest in embarrassment.

“But I like it,” Dean says. Before Cas can say anything else, he spins his blue-eyed boyfriend around to gauge another reaction. Dean can’t help himself; Cas is simply too adorable and tempting. _I’m such an awkward teen in love_ , Dean thinks to himself.

“Dean Winchester, drop me down immediately, or I swear to god I’m going to skin you alive,” Cas commands. He looks like he’s trying to look serious, but he seems unable to repress his grin.

“Can’t deter me that easily, Cas,” Dean answers in a sing-song voice, although he has stopped spinning around.

“Okay, then I’m going to have you locked with Balthazar all day when he visits,” Cas tries again.

“Close, but not quite. I can duct tape his mouth. I’m better than him at wrestling,” Dean replies.

“Okay, okay, tone it down, Dean Winchester,” Cas half chuckles half frowns, trying to think of a better threat. Dean’s fingers have found a way to poke at his face, and Cas tries to swat it and glares at his boyfriend. Said boyfriend only grins cheekily as a respond.

Cas snaps his fingers and grins excitedly. “I know what’ll send you on your knees.”

“Hmm, are you thinking what I’m thinking? ‘Cause if you are, I’m down with that—pun intended,” Dean replies, and Cas slaps his cheeks lightly.

“Shut up. Okay, you ready?” Cas proudly asks.

“Bring it out.” Dean grins and raises one eyebrow challengingly.

“I’ll tell everyone about _that_ , Mr. June,” Cas says, smirking smugly.

Dean’s face contorts from emotions. At first he’s confused, then baffled, then horrified. He almost drops Cas down. Cas laughs and yells in victory.

“How did you know that?” Dean asks; his face visibly pales in horror.

“You don’t think I wouldn’t know, do you?” Cas snickers.

“It was for charity,” Dean tries to defend himself. Cas raises an eyebrow in disbelief. They have a staring contest until Dean groans and closes his eyes in shame. “Okay, okay! I was drunk, and somehow I made a bet. _Surprisingly_ , I lost.”

Cas laughs out loud and Dean is torn between glaring at him or burying his face in shame.

“Christ, I’m gonna kill Jo for this,” Dean mumbles.

“Oh, it was Jo who made you do that? That makes sense now,” Cas says.

“Nothing makes sense in the whole scenario, Cas,” Dean grumbles, and Cas can’t help but giggle again.

“Okay, I’m telling you the truth. It wasn’t me who found the calendar. Anna told me about it,” says Cas.

“You mean Anna Milton? Oh, great. She’s never letting me walk out of this alive. How come she knows _that_ anyway?”

“She’s best friends with Jo, you know. Ever since you introduced Jo to her, that is. I figure Jo told Anna about your sudden modeling career, and they both find it … amusing.” Cas gets sent a glare from Dean, to which he joyfully ignores. “So, really, if you think about it, the root of the blaming game is on you.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll get back to each and every one of you little shits,” Dean grumbles again.

Cas laughs. He’s smiling so wide when he replies, “Okay, let’s blame it on the alcohol, then?”

Dean doesn’t answer, but Cas figures he begrudgingly agrees.

“Now let me down,” Cas asks again, and this time Dean complies. The green-eyed man is still as careful as ever when he lowers Cas down.

“I suddenly crave juice. Do you want some?” Cas offers.

Dean contemplates it for a while before answering, “Okay.”

“Is mango okay for you?” Cas asks again.

“Surprise me,” Dean answers with a fond smile.

“Okay,” Cas responds, and he smiles back. He lets Dean sit on the dining chair and lets go of his hand. The touch of Cas’ fingers feels electrifying against Dean’s skin.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean suddenly has the urge to call out.

“Yes?” Cas turns around to look at his lover with a raised eyebrow.

Dean smiles and surges forward to gently cup Cas’ face with his hand and presses his lips against Cas’. His other hand is holding Cas’ tightly. He slowly retreats, but keeping his face only inches close from his lover’s.

Cas laughs almost breathlessly. “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” Dean murmurs, resting his forehead against Cas’. “I just really love you.”

Cas smiles and squeezes Dean’s hand. “Me too,” Cas whispers before placing another chaste kiss on Dean’s lips.

Their breaths mingle, and the air around them changes. Dean opens his eyes to stare at the lithe figure of Cas, made of atoms and dusts and _stars_. He smiles at the thought of how much he loves him. And in that moment, Dean knows, even for just a second, everything in the universe is alright.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean just wants to make Cas happy. He doesn't need to be reminded of how much of an asshole he was. But, as always, trust Balthazar to rub salt into the wound.

Today, Dean wakes up just right to see the beauty of his lover waking up. A ray of sunshine streams from the slight gap of the window uncovered by the translucent blue curtain and falls on the side of Cas’ head, the golden light illuminating his pale skin and strands of dulling dark hair. There’s a sound of his hair rasping against his pillow when he tries to rouse himself from sleep. Then those eyes start to open; slow and reluctant at first, his eyelashes fluttering to chase away the sleepiness, and then getting more certain as sparks return to those blue eyes which hide the ocean underneath.

Cas lets out a breath like he’s whispering out his secret to the world. With a hand on his chest, he closes his eyes and whispers quietly, “Thank you.”

Dean observes this, and he comes to a realization. Just as he likes to start a morning with a good old Led Zeppelin, or John as he used to stare at the framed picture of himself and Mary whenever he wakes, this is Cas’ routine. Cas, with a part within him rebelling and refusing to develop his heart like a normal person, starts a morning with a relieved breath that he’s still given the chance to see another sunrise, and thanks his heart for not giving up on him yet.

It’s sacred and terrifying for Dean all at the same time. He doesn’t move, and he tries to not change the pattern of his breath. Let Cas think he’s still asleep so he will have more time for himself.

When Cas breathes again, he breathes more lightly.

“Hey,” Dean greets with a raspy voice as he opens his head. Cas looks startled, but nevertheless he smiles and greets him back with the same deep, “Hi.”

Dean is still lying on the bed with a hand caressing Cas’ cheek tenderly. He wants to have this luxury of lazy mornings with the love of his life before the day demands them to work. He doesn’t expect for Cas to lay his head on Dean’s chest and drapes a hand over his heart.

“Ninety, one hundred twenty,” Cas murmurs softly against the crook of Dean’s neck. He counts the freckles dotting the sun-kissed skin and breathes against it.

“What?” Dean asks, his hand coming up to hold to Cas’ arm and pulls him closer.

“It’s the normal heart rate for a human. It’s your heartbeat. That is the rhythm I feel thumping under my hand, you heart’s way of telling me that you’re still alive and well,” Cas says.

Dean doesn’t say anything, only stroking Cas’ arm in a soothing manner. He knows just a miniscule part of Cas’ life, and he wants to know. He wants to learn every twist, every turn, and every curve. He wants to know Cas’ first memory, the first time he falls in love, his first day of school, the people who come and go in his life, what he feels when he sees Dean, whether or not he feels the sensation of his stomach churning or his cheeks heating when Dean leans in to kiss him, the heartbreaks he’s felt, his bruises and cuts and wounds—Dean wants to know them all.

Cas closes his eyes, and takes a breath like it’s his final one. “Sometimes, I’m angry. Sometimes, I’m selfish. Sometimes, I wake up in cold blood, thinking why does it have to be me to live this life? Why do I have to be born sick? Why is my family broken? Why do people knock at my door only to lock me in as they slam it shut and get out forever?”

There’s a lump on his throat, and Dean swallows it down in favor of whispering sweet encouragements for Cas.

“Dean, sometimes … sometimes I ask myself, why do I have to be born only to wither and die?” Cas whispers, his voice breaking when it usually stands firm and tall above anything else. He bunches up Dean’s shirt in his hand and he breathes again.

“What makes you so strong, Cas?” Dean can’t help but ask. He wills himself not to break; not in front of the person who needs him most.

“I’m not strong,” Cas says that like a confession. He flattens his palm on Dean’s chest again, and he’s back on feeling the steady heartbeat of Dean. Something about it calms him whereas his own heart cannot. “I never was. I’m not a fighter, I’m not a knight. I take my pills like a soldier loading his bullets in a war, but I know I’m on the losing side.”

Cas stops to whisper so quietly it’s barely audible, “One hundred and twenty.”

Dean waits.

“But somehow I don’t want to give up without a fight,” Cas says breathlessly.

Dean holds him dear, and he kisses the top of Cas’ head with eyes hot with the tears he holds back. “You’re amazing, Cas. You’re stronger than me. And you have my promise that I’ll be with you in your war till the end of the line,” he says.

Dean wants to think it makes the war easier.

“Dean, what I’m about to tell you isn’t nice. It’s cruel, it’s relentless, and it’s unbearable. But I … I need to,” Cas utters.

There is not a single second where he hesitates to say, “I’m here for you.”

A silence stretches for what feels like an eternity. Dean holds his breath as Cas releases one. The door of the dam is opened and it floods.

“I’m always cold at the farthest part of my body because of impending circulatory shock. Sometimes I can’t breathe no matter how hard I thrash. My heartbeat is arrhythmic; it can be too slow or too fast, and I’m always dying for a normal one. I can’t do things normal people do on their lives, so I settle with just watching them while imagining it was me climbing the mountains or sailing through seas. I can never be too happy or too sad in fear of my heart giving out. I constantly live in fear of when my clock ticks and reaches zero. And I…”

Cas sucks in a deep breath as he shakes in his effort to not cry.

“You can never imagine how grateful I am every morning when I wake up that my lungs are still able to breathe another breath and my heart can still beat another heartbeat. To be able to cherish what people take for granted—to be able to go on for another day, to just _live_ —”

In the end, Cas never finishes what he says. He clutches into Dean like the man is his lifeline. Dean doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t want to. He has nothing to say. He doesn’t have the right. What he can do right now is show Cas that he’s there with him, that he’s ready to go on this cruel journey with Cas with no intention of running away.

They stay curled up against each other until Dean can feel Cas’ steady heartbeat. He holds him like one protecting a comrade in a war.

“I’m sorry,” Cas tells him softly. “I know it’s hard for you. I’m sorry I push it on you.”

“You have nothing to be sorry, Cas. Stop being so hard on yourself and start thinking what you can do for you. You’re dying, Cas, I know, but you’re not alone. I’m dying with you, and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to make my last seconds worth it.” Dean inhales deeply and scents mint from Cas’ shampoo. “And if it means being with you, even if I have to watch you wither and crumble in pain, then so be it.”

“You are worth it, Castiel Novak, and I’ll spend every second of my life trying to make you believe that,” Dean ends with an air of finality.

Cas stares at Dean and selfishly takes every word, keeps every syllables within himself. He finds himself hanging on to them as they are his anchor. He wants those words to flow his veins and fill his heart. He wants to take it all until it spills past the shores for him to take it back again. He lets those words warm him, and make his small abnormal heart swell.

For the first time in a very long time, Cas feels magnificent.

“I told you not to make me too happy. You’re too much for my dying heart to take, Dean,” Cas laughs, and now he lets tears slip on his face, because the tears aren’t for his fear or sorrow, it’s for his love.

“I’ll try not to be too awesome,” Dean answers with a grin, and Cas wipes it off his face with a kiss.

“Cas,” Dean whispers with both hand on Cas’ cheeks, foreheads touching, breaths warm against each other’s skin. “Are you happy?”

Dean can see the sun hidden beneath the ocean in Cas’ eyes and feel the stardust in the form of Cas’ smile, and he’s left breathlessly drowning.

“Yes.”

* * *

 

Cas, Dean notices, decidedly looks less sad after he serves breakfast. Dean makes his entrance to the dining room known, and Cas turns to look at him with blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I was being stupid. Sorry, I was just … I just felt the compelling need to tell you. I know you’re not comfortable talking about it,” Cas tells him nervously.

Dean reaches out to him, to pull him to a hug and plant his lips on his dark locks. “Don’t be. I love you the way you are. I love your blunt and take-no-shit attitude. I love how you look at the silver linings of everything.”

“It makes the war easier,” Cas murmurs against Dean’s chest.

“Yeah. You’re a soldier, the pills and meds are your bullets, your disease is the enemy, and your fight is the war; the story that’ll be passed on as your legacy. And I’m the one listening attentively in class about a soldier who lives within a war, whose friends are bullets and blood, and who will never go down without a fight. I’m the one admiring you. I’m the one who’ll remember the story,” Dean says.

Cas chuckles softly before wrapping his hands around Dean’s back. “Since when do you become so philosophic, Winchester?”

“Since I met this asshole whose heart is dying and compensate by becoming Shakespearean,” Dean answers, and Cas actually laughs at that.

“He seems great,” Cas says with humor in his voice.

“Not really. He’s a total smartass and I love him,” Dean replies.

Cas laughs again, and Dean delights in the sound reverberating through his skin.

“I think that’s enough sass for today. You might run out when you need it most,” Cas says lightly and pulls Dean by the hand to sit. There’s already a egg and sausage muffin on the plate, still smoking and fresh out of the pan.

Dean takes a bite and moans in ecstasy. Cas lets out a gentle giggle and eats his muffin too. “Is it good?” the dark-haired man asks.

Dean looks at him with wide eyes. “Good? Cas, this is fucking fan-freaking-tastic! This is like, the best thing I’ve ever eaten, _ever_ ,” he says before chomping down on his food again.

Cas’ hand rest on his lips as he chuckles lightly. “You’re quite easy to please. Here I thought I had to perfect my baking skill to make you your dream pie,” he comments.

Green eyes stare at him with sparkle. “You can make pie?”

“Yes, I’ve learned to do that for the past twenty four years,” Cas hums.

“You never told me that!” Dean looks genuinely offended, and Cas can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, how about you drive me to the store, and I’ll see what I can do,” Cas offers with a smile.

Dean swallows the last bite of his breakfast before grinning widely and replies, “Definitely.”

After both men finish their breakfast, Cas gets up to wash the dishes. Dean can’t help but wrap his hands around Cas’ waist and rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. The scent of mint is stronger, and Dean inhales deeply. Cas apparently finds it funny as he chuckles.

“You’re making it hard for me to move, Dean,” Cas says lightly.

“But it’s nice. And you smell good,” Dean replies before snuggling closer, nuzzling his nose against Cas’ hair.

Cas laughs again, but he doesn’t say anything. He lets Dean hug him, and after a while he leans back to the touch, delighting in the warmth Dean provides him. Dean hums happily against his skin, sometimes placing feather light kisses across his face.

After all the dishes are done, Cas washes his hands before placing it on top of Dean’s. He turns his body so he’s facing his boyfriend, and Dean gifts him with a kiss on his forehead.

“I wanna watch something,” Cas murmurs, snaking his hand around Dean’s neck and burying against Dean’s chest.

“What’s with the sudden clinginess, princess?” Dean teases him.

Cas looks up at him and pinches his nose. Dean groans and swats Cas’ hand away. Cas giggles and frees himself from Dean’s hold. “Well, it’s okay if you don’t want it,” he says before stepping out of the dining room to the living room.

“Hey, I’m just kidding!” Dean calls out.

“Of course you are,” Cas replies with a fake huff.

Dean runs toward him and swiftly sweeps him off of his feet. Cas lets out a startled yelp, his hand as always finds their way to hold on to Dean’s neck instinctively.

“Dean!” Cas exclaims, trying to sound so done but failing because of the smile spreading in his face.

“Hey, you wanna watch movie, then let’s watch movie,” Dean answers.

Cas huffs, but he doesn’t fight Dean. He only comments, “You really love to carry me, don’t you? I’m heavy, you know.”

“Nah, you’re light as feather. Makes me wonder what you’ve been eating,” Dean replies.

“Heart disease will do that to you,” Cas answers lightly before he realizes what he’s said. He looks up at Dean’s face, worried that he might cause his lover discomfort because of Cas’ strange humor as his way of coping with his disease. Dean doesn’t seem deterred by it, though. He doesn’t flinch like the first time he did when Cas joked about his disease.

“Okay, that actually makes sense, so—”

“You’re starting to sound like Balthazar.” Cas rolls his eyes and smiles in amusement.

Dean looks genuinely offended. “In what aspect do my words remotely resemble that flaming asshole?”

Cas can’t hold his laughter. “I have to remember to put that in my dictionary. Balthazar will be pleased,” he says humorously.

“That’d be my honor. Just don’t forget to credit me,” Dean replies with a grin.

When Dean reaches the couch in the living room, he lowers Cas down gently. The green-eyed man is about to turn to pick a DVD when Cas pulls him down for a quick kiss. Their teeth knock and their noses bump, but they’re both happy and giggling by the end.

“You have Percy Jackson?” Dean asks while sorting through Cas’ DVD collection.

Cas’ face scrunches up. “No, don’t watch it, it’s horrendous. The book is way better,” he tells Dean.

Dean doesn’t spare Cas a glance before he puts back the DVD and searches again. He pulls another DVD. “Okay then. Harry Potter?” he asks.

“I’ve watched that last week.”

“Transformers?”

“Bored.”

“What’s this? The Notebook?”

“I thought you don’t like chick flick.”

“I don’t. Just checking if you do. So, Iron Man? We can do another marathon.”

“No, not anything Marvel. I promised Gabriel I’ll watch with him.”

“What, he has a hard-on on Captain America or something?”

“He actually prefers Loki.”

“Huh, matches him. All mischievous and such. So what do you wanna watch exactly? You’re starting to annoy me.”

“Well, I’m sorry that your movie-picking ability is terrible.”

“Right, like you’re any better.”

“And what if I am?”

“Prove it.”

Cas rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch. He stands beside Dean, his eyes scanning his collection. He decides to search in the series section and pulls out the classic Jurassic Park.

“What about this, huh?” Cas shows it in front of Dean.

Dean looks tormented. So Cas still remembers that Dean loves Jurassic Park—well, Dean thinks exasperatedly, who doesn’t? The classic Jurassic Park is like a dream movie. He still remembers the first time he saw it; he was home alone with Sam because John is away from work. He’s huddled with baby Sam in his hold, watching the movie on the TV screen. Dean also still remembers the awe he felt when he saw those dinosaurs on screen. Every child in 1993 soon made Jurassic Park their classic favorite movie. Even after three sequels later, Jurassic Park is still considered the best of all.

Cas waits with his hands folded across his chest. He looks so smug and Dean is annoyed by that. He doesn’t want to admit that Cas is right; that Cas is indeed better than him at picking movies. It hurts his pride. But then again Cas has sparked some nostalgic feelings when he waves the Jurassic Park DVD in front of Dean’s face.

In the end, Dean gives in to Jurassic Park’s temptation.

“Fine, let’s watch it,” Dean reluctantly says.

Cas jumps and yells in victory. He grins cheekily, as opposed to the scowling Dean. Cas then looks at him meaningfully, and before Dean can ask him, he already says, still grinning smugly, “Come on, say it. Admit it, Winchester.”

Dean groans. “Really, Cas?”

“You only have to say it,” Cas laughs, “It isn’t that hard. I’m dying already, so consider this an ego boost.”

“Maybe a little less will get you to Heaven,” Dean replies.

“Ah, slowly becoming a smartass, aren’t you? It’s not enough to deter me, though. Come on, say it. Say it like a real man.” Cas is still encouraging Dean while failing to hide his amused grin.

“Don’t pull that card on me, Cas,” Dean glowers.

“Dean, please?” Cas says with a voice that reminds Dean of a kicked puppy. Dean then realizes that it’s intentional when Cas doubles his effort by using his puppy eyes look.

“Cas, don’t—” Dean sighs in defeat. “Fine. Okay. You win. You’re better at picking movie. Happy now?”

Cas’ grin widens. “Happy,” he says fake-innocently.

“You little shit,” Dean says, but he can’t help but smile after all. He decides to get back at Cas a little by flicking at his forehead when he isn’t on his guard. Cas makes a small annoyed noise and tries to slap Dean, but the mechanic is already taking one step behind to dodge it.

Seeing Dean’s cheeky grin makes Cas huff, but he doesn’t try to do anything. He gives the DVD to Dean to put on the player. Cas himself has found a comfortable spot on the couch. He sits there with his knees pulled to his chest, his hands hugging tightly a large pillow.

Dean immediately joins his boyfriend. The opening scene begins. Dean finds his perfect spot to be with Cas snuggled close against him, with his arm around Cas’ waist and his chin resting on top of Cas’ head so he can smell that amazing minty scent emitting from Cas’ dark hair.

When the movie plays the music with John Hammond saying, “Welcome … to Jurassic Park,” Dean makes a pleased sound. The music brings nostalgic feelings, and soon memories of him and Sam watching the movie for the first time floods his mind.

“I really like the music,” Cas sighs contentedly as he closes his eyes. “I remember when I was 5 there was a rerun of Jurassic Park in television. I was watching it with my family. Mom was still alive, and Dad was still so happy. I was leaning back on Michael, and Gabriel wouldn’t stop giving spoilers. Lucifer nearly rained popcorns over his head because of it. Even Raphael looked interested.”

Cas says that lightly, but Dean can still feel a bit of sadness hanging in the air. Cas seems to notice and quickly brushes it off with a gentle smile. “It’s nice to be here with you, Dean,” he says quietly.

Dean doesn’t say anything. He presses his lips against Cas’ temple. Cas sighs contentedly.

“Feels like home,” Cas murmurs softly, and Dean can’t agree more.

The serenity is then disrupted by a knock on the door. Both men turn their head to look at the door. Before Cas can do anything, Dean already stands up and says, “I’ll go get it.”

Cas nods and lets his touch on Dean’s hand lingers before their entwined fingers part completely. His eyes follow Dean’s movement until he’s gone on the corner before focusing back on the movie playing.

Dean opens the door, and the first thing he sees is blonde. He’s equally startled as the guest. His mind then proceeds to play a conversation with Cas yesterday.

“Balthazar?”

There’s not a second for Dean to be prepared for a fist connecting with his jaw. The force knocks Dean backwards; the punch catches him off guard and he curses. He can feel his skin bruised and bloody. Staggering, the green-eyed man looks up just in time to block another punch coming from Balthazar and instinctively counters with an upward cut to Balthazar’s neck. He nearly misses, but Balthazar has retracted himself while coughing.

Balthazar charges again, and Dean also surges forward. Their fists are about to clash when both men are held back. Adrenaline pumps through Dean’s vein, making him feel hot inside. His breaths come out in pants. He vaguely hears someone yelling, but he can’t hear it clearly because of his buzzing ears. Only when the effect of adrenaline wears out does he feel the pain on the left side of his jaw.

“What happened!?” yells someone, and Dean now realizes that it’s Cas.

Dean looks at Balthazar and angrily replies, “He fucking punched me!”

Cas’ eyes are now staring at Balthazar pointedly. “Balthazar, what were you thinking?”

Balthazar’s face goes through ranges of emotions. At first he looks genuinely surprised, then offended, then angry. “Cassie, you’re fucking kidding me, right!?” he asks.

The atmosphere gets tense. Cas sighs. “If I tell you everything, will you—and you too, Dean—promise to behave?” he asks.

“But, Cassie—” Balthazar starts, but Castiel gives him another pointed look and he sighs in defeat. Gadreel, who has been holding him back, finally releases him.

“It’s nice to see you again, Balthazar, Gadreel. Now, let’s sit in the living room. I’ll go get some drink and first aid, and I expect you to sit tight and behave like a grown man. I promise I will tell everything,” Cas says sternly before leaving Dean, Gadreel, and Balthazar. Dean and Balthazar are still glaring at each other, but they don’t dare to do anything.

Fortunately, Cas is back in no time with a first aid kit and cold drinks in his hand. He sits beside Dean. With one look, Gadreel nods and moves to patch up Balthazar’s injury. Cas himself works with Dean. The four of them sit in silence.

Dean can feel his jaw throbs in pain. Cas very carefully wipes the blood off of Dean’s skin. He wraps ice in a soft towel before slowly pressing it to the bruised skin. Dean flinches because it’s painful, but Cas looks like he’s going to scold him, so he doesn’t say anything.

“You two, keep pressing the ice for 20 minutes. If it’s worse than what I thought, I’ll get the ointment,” Cas commands. Dean and Balthazar can only comply. Gadreel as usual keeps a straight face, although there’s a twitch at the corner of his lips as if he’s trying to suppress a snicker.

Cas shifts in his seat to find a more comfortable position. Gadreel and Balthazar are looking at him expectantly. The dark-haired man sighs. “Well, tell you the truth, there isn’t much to tell,” he starts hesitantly.

“Of course there is. Like, oh I don’t know, what is this asshole doing here?” Balthazar glares at Dean. Dean wants to glare back, but he understands Balthazar’s irritation toward him.

“We talked, okay. We settled things straight. I’ve forgiven him, and I’ve accepted him back,” Cas explains.

“And just that!? Cassie, that bastard cheated on you and left you without a word! You were depressed for god knows how long! And then he just came barging in into your life again, said some sweet nonsense and you fell for his trap again!?” Balthazar asked with his voice raised high.

Dean keeps silent, taking the accusations Balthazar is throwing at him. Even though it hurts him to admit it, the blond man is right. Dean had cheated on Cas with a girl he can’t even remember her name is, and his cowardice made him run away instead of solving the problems. No matter how much he promised Cas he’s changed and he’ll try to set things right, it will never erase the fact that Dean had once betrayed the one who truly loved him most, and still does even until now.

“I know, Balthazar. Dean made a mistake—”

“Yeah, mistake,” Balthazar snorts.

“Balthazar,” Cas sighs wearily. Balthazar seems to feel guilty. Castiel smiles a sad smile and says, “In three weeks, we all are going to die. I probably have less. And you know that, even after all this time, I can never forget about Dean.”

Cas lays his hand on top of Dean’s, and Dean squeezes it as an encouragement. Cas lets out another heavy breath.

“I don’t want to leave this world with regrets. I know it’s selfish, to be given time then ask for more. But for once, I want to forget, okay? I want to forget that Dean once hurt me. I want to forget that my mother died and my father abandoned my family. I want to forget that I’m a dying man with imperfect heart. Maybe that way I can face death with something to hold on to, so I can say that I had a great life and I’m not sorry for being alive,” Cas explains softly.

Balthazar gasps and Gadreel looks at Cas with a sad expression. Dean squeezes his hand harder. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make things awkward. Just … I’m okay, okay? You don’t have to worry, Balthazar. I’m going to be okay.”

“Oh, Cassie…” Balthazar says exasperatedly. He gets up and unexpectedly hugs Cas. Cas is taken aback, but he still returns the hug with a big smile on his face.

Surprisingly, Balthazar stands in front of Dean and punches his shoulder lightly. His smile is genuine. “Sorry about that, bro. Cassie is like a brother to me, so you know how I feel,” he says.

Dean stands too and smiles back at the blond. “Yeah, don’t sweat it. I’ll be angry if you didn’t punch me. Sorry about that too. Self defense,” he replies. He and Balthazar then proceeds to have a one-handed hug.

“You hurt him again and I’ll give you more than a punch,” Balthazar threatens him playfully.

“If I do, I will surrender myself to you,” Dean says.

Gadreel is suddenly already in front of Dean. “Just because I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean I won’t let you go easy. If you make him cry, just remember I know certain knowledge I can use to make your life like Hell,” he says lightly.

“Gadreel likes to watch Criminal Minds,” Cas adds with an amused smile.

“Then I wouldn’t even dare to imagine it,” Dean jokes lightly, and Gadreel smiles at that. They do the one-handed hug before they return to their seats.

“It’s like watching five year olds making up again after a big fight,” Cas comments amusedly. Three pairs of eyes shoot him a look, and he can’t help but giggle.

Balthazar then turns and finally notices the TV playing. “Oh, Jurassic Park. Classic one, eh?” he comments with his British accent finally showing.

“Are you really here just so you can watch a movie in my living room?” Cas rolls his eyes.

“Like he hasn’t done it before,” Gadreel comments, and Cas has to laugh at the truth of that.

Balthazar, on the other hand, looks offended. “I thought you have my back. Traitor.”

“It’s called karma, Gabe,” Dean snickers.

“Oh, don’t be so spiteful, Winchester. You know I still have Gabriel’s contact number,” Balthazar replies. Dean throws his hands up in mock surrender.

Dean takes a sip from his drink and asks, “So, what’re you guys doing here?”

“We’re just checking on Castiel. It’s become a habit, actually,” Gadreel answers and Dean nods in understanding.

“How’s work? None of you got promoted without me knowing, right?” Cas asks.

“No, just some douche bosses screwing their slutty secretaries or some poor guy getting stomped down in office hierarchy; same old, same old,” Balthazar answers lightly.

Cas winces and looks at Gadreel for explanation. He knows from experience that Balthazar’s words can’t be taken into consideration completely.

“It can be worded better, but to summarize office life, he’s pretty much right,” Gadreel says.

“Wow, one more reason to not work in office,” Dean mumbles to himself.

Balthazar claps his hands and says, “Well, this talk has been great and all, but it seems like the dinosaurs attract me more than you evolved apes, so I’ll retract myself and indulge in classic luxury.”

Hearing that, Dean scoffs, but Balthazar says to him, “Oh, that’s right, while we’re at it, why don’t you bring some more drink? Beer, preferably.”

“And why should it be me? You have two legs and last I checked they were perfectly healthy,” Dean retaliates.

“Dean, Dean.” Balthazar clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Haven’t you heard of the old saying that ‘guests are kings’? Which also implicitly suggests that you’re my slave. So it only makes sense for you to get me some beer.”

“I’m pretty sure that doesn’t exist and it only makes sense for you to kiss my ass,” Dean replies.

“Of course it does. I made it!” Balthazar says. “And you’re talking to the wrong person.”

Cas looks up at both men. “I have no intention of kissing anybody’s ass.”

“Okay, how about the other way around, then?” Balthazar says again. Dean and Gadreel resolve on rolling their eyes.

“I think I’ll pass,” Castiel says flatly.

“That’s just sad. How do you survive this cruel world?” Balthazar comments.

“By being the dying guy with heart disease.”

“Acceptable. But have you even thought about it? I can open your eyes to the wonder of rimming—”

“And that’s my cue to go get some drinks. You can keep your opinions to yourself, Balthazar.” Cas gets up and quickly walks out of the living room, leaving a snickering Balthazar behind.

When Cas is out, Balthazar’s focus shifts to Dean. “Hey, I don’t wanna scare you, but you know that Michael’s coming in just a few days, right?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs. He certainly isn’t waiting for the arrival of his boyfriend’s oldest brother.

At least Balthazar still has a shred of decency to look sympathetic. “I can only wish you the best of luck,” he says.

“I don’t want to scare you, but just to give you an image, the second Michael sees your face, he’s gonna tear you a new one. So I suggest you practice dodging his attack if you want to survive.” Even Gadreel says that with all seriousness.

“I know,” Dean sighs again. “I can take it. I mean, it _is_ my fault for him to be that … murderous. I think it’s only fair for him to, I dunno, get back to me or something.”

“Oh, you have no idea. When you first left Cassie, he was furious. I remember Gabriel telling me that after Cassie told him about you while crying, the first thing Michael did was go to the kitchen to sharpen his knife. Dude’s scarier than the Devil himself when he’s angry,” Balthazar adds unhelpfully.

“Way to cheer me up, asshole,” Dean grumbles. Balthazar just grins without looking even a slightest bit sorry.

“I’m sure Castiel won’t let Michael harm you. He has always had a way with words. But I’m sure it won’t stop Michael from verbally attacking you every time Castiel turns his back,” Gadreel tries to assure Dean, although he fails in the end.

“Michael’s words are venomous, alright,” Balthazar nods his agreement of Gadreel’s statement.

“What have you guys been talking about?”

Cas strolls back into the room with a tray of beers, a glass of orange juice, and a jar of cookies. He places them on the table and Balthazar immediately snatches one bottle. Cas glares at him disapprovingly, but doesn’t forbid him from doing so.

“I heard from Gabe that Mikey’s coming to town,” Balthazar starts.

“Oh, yes. He didn’t specify when he will be coming when we last spoke, but he said he’ll be here around next week. He’ll be here first before Luci and Raphael follow,” Cas explains.

Dean takes one cookie from the jar, fondling it for a bit in his hand. “Is it okay for me to stay here? I don’t think Michael’s gonna be too happy about it,” he tells his lover. “Holy shit, this is so good! Are you a baking deity or something?”

“Cassie here is a stress baker, you know. Trying out new recipe is like breathing to him,” Balthazar says while waving his cookie.

“That’s exaggerating, Balthazar, and don’t leave crumbs everywhere. The carpet is a pain to clean,” Cas warns his British friend.

“Shame I didn’t get to taste it sooner,” Dean says as he takes a bite of the gingerbread cookies. He nearly moans, with the only thing keeping him from doing so is the presence of Balthazar and Gadreel.

“Is that your happy-orgasm face? Cassie, is it?” Balthazar snickers and Castiel rolls his eyes again.

“That reminds me,” Gadreel suddenly says, “Hannah asked about her red velvet cake.”

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” Cas says.

“That’s okay, I can just tell her to wait a little bit more,” Gadreel replies, stuffing another cookie to his mouth.

Cas looks thoughtful. “I don’t think I have the ingredients, though. Maybe I should do some shopping,” he says to himself.

“Ywh sehd yewh gon’ gwh shwppngh,” Dean says with mouth full of cookies.

Cas chuckles and strokes Dean’s cheek softly. “Eat your food first. I don’t speak aliens, you know,” he says with a smile.

“Oh, you two lovebirds make me want to puke,” Balthazar comments.

“You know where the bathroom is,” Cas replies without averting his eyes from Dean. Even Gadreel has to laugh at that.

By the time the jar of cookies is empty, Cas is already sitting on Dean’s laps, eating the cookies fed by Dean. Gadreel and Balthazar just exchange glances amusedly. They haven’t seen Castiel this happy in months—years, even—so they’re really happy on their friend’s behalf.

“Well, I don’t wanna be involved in your honeymoon phase so I think we’ll be going now,” Balthazar pronounces.

“Already?” Cas turns his head to look at his friends.

“Can’t handle all this romance, can you?” Dean mocks him. He averts Cas’ gaze by touching his chin and places a light kiss on the blue-eyed man’s nose. Cas throws his hands around Dean’s neck and giggles.

“Okay, that’s it! My eyes are bleeding and begging me to go. Adios, suckers!” Balthazar exclaims and he’s immediately out of the room. Gadreel follows him with Cas and Dean trailing behind.

Gadreel and Balthazar wave at the couple as their car leaves the house. Dean and Cas follows the car until they disappear down the road. Dean nudges at Cas and they go back inside the house.

The second the door is closed, Dean props Cas against a wall. “Fucking finally,” he sighs into Cas’ mouth as they indulge in a passionate kiss.

“What’s with the sudden clinginess?” Cas asks him with a teasing smile. Dean only makes a displeased noise before pressing his lips against Cas’ again.

Dean’s breath is hot against Cas’ skin, and his hand comes up to cup the side of Dean’s face. “Is the bruise okay? Balthazar didn’t cause some pretty nasty damage, did he?” he asks worriedly.

“I’m gonna be fine,” Dean assures him. He smiles and kisses Cas once again. The dark-haired man hums happily against those soft lips.

“You sure?” Cas whispers against his lips.

“Kiss it better, then,” Dean murmurs. That manages to make Cas laugh.

With a breathy voice, he says, “Okay,” and kisses Dean again. “Better?”

“Perfect,” Dean replies.

Cas smiles at that, and when he does, the stars align and all the pieces in Dean’s life click together for him to say, “You’re perfect.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the fun from getting back with Cas is, as expected, the sex.

“Do you wanna go shopping now?” Dean asks him when they finally have some space between them.

Cas looks at the clock on the wall. “Okay. Let’s get changed first,” he tells Dean. “Oh, and that reminds me. You haven’t put your belongings in our room, have you?”

Dean is momentarily stunned. “Wow, Cas, our room already?” he asks.

Cas’ face grows several shades redder. He sputters, “I mean, you’ve basically lived here now, and we s-sleep together. But it’s okay if you don’t want to! I mean, it’s silly in the first place—”

“Easy, Cas! I never said I didn’t like it,” Dean says with a wide grin. “I love it, okay? Our room. Really has a nice ring to it,” he adds thoughtfully.

The nervousness eases off of Cas and he smiles. “It does,” he says softly.

Dean looks at him, adoring the clear blueness in his eyes and the little mole near his ear and the way his mouth uncurls as a smile spread on his face. He looks at his boyfriend, and thinks of how much he loves him and how lucky he is to be loved back by such a beautiful entity.

“Come on, stop staring at me and let’s get going,” Cas says as he shies away from Dean’s stare.

“Whatever you wish for, baby,” Dean replies.

“I am not an infant, Dean,” Cas replies dryly.

“Whatever you say, Cas.” Dean rolls his eyes.

Dean goes to retrieve his bag and Cas is already up on the stairs. Dean decides to change his clothes in the living room. He puts on a gray tee with red plaid. He goes to Cas’ room, which technically has been their room, skipping two steps of the stairs at a time.

When he enters, Cas is buttoning his shirt. The sleeves are rolled up his elbow. Dean’s first thought is that he looks stunning. The blue color of the shirt really brings out Cas’ eyes.

“Stop drooling all over the floor, Dean,” Cas says lightly.

“Can’t help it,” Dean says with a smile as he hugs Cas from behind. He kisses Cas’ earlobe and whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Cas says, looking flattered. “I can say the same with you.”

“I’m afraid someone will check you out,” Dean says.

“Of course not,” Cas replies.

“Why?”

“Because you’ll claw their eyes out if they ever dare to do that.”

Dean laughs at the answer. “Why I deserve you, I’ll never know,” he says, nuzzling at Cas’ neck.

“Okay. Tell me when you’re finished being touchy-feely so we can go now,” Cas says with a teasing tone.

“Wait a moment,” Dean mumbles before nuzzling even further. He takes a deep breath before releasing Cas reluctantly.

Cas chuckles. “You can hug me anytime, you know,” he states.

“I know, but I can’t stop once I’ve started,” Dean tells his boyfriend. He takes Cas’ hand and walks out of the room. “Come on, before I start dry humping you.”

“Glad to know you realize that,” Cas comments amusedly.

Dean only hums without stating any agreement or rejection. He fishes out the Impala’s key from his back pocket. He walks to the Impala while Cas locks his house. By the time Cas is back to Dean’s side, the car’s engine already revs to live.

Cas trails his fingers gently over the body of the car with a fond smile. “I miss her,” he says softly.

There is a smile on Dean’s face when he notices the look on his boyfriend’s face. “I know. She’s a true beauty, ain’t she?”

“I still remember the first time you took me around in her. I had to skip Mrs. Naomi’s class, and I got into a trouble for that,” he says, eyes glazed with affection over the memories. “After all these years, I can still remember the sound of her machine, and the feel of the leather seat against my skin.”

“You’re such a sap,” Dean laughs.

A smile is sent toward Dean before Cas opens the Impala’s car and sits in front. Dean enters the car too, the door making a distinctive creaking noise. His fingers instinctively fly to turn on the speaker.

“Still head over heels over Metallica, Dean?” Cas asks with an amused smile.

“Dude, Metallica is timeless. How is that even a question?” Dean shakes his head in disbelief, and Cas responds with gentle chuckles.

It’s been six years since Dean set his foot on Pontiac, so he only has vague memories of the streets. Cas has to show him the direction to get to the nearest supermarket. They finally arrive at the nearest Walmart. Dean parks his car before they head to the front door.

A woman with Walmart uniform greets them with a smile, her eyes glancing at Dean and Castiel’s entangled pinky fingers. Cas smiles shyly at her, but he doesn’t try to separate his finger from Dean’s.

Cas hands Dean a basket. “Don’t try to sneak anything there,” he warns the mechanic.

“Jesus, Cas, I’m not five,” Dean replies with a laugh.

“It pays to be prepared,” Cas replies amusedly.

“Damn, that hurts more than any blade can do,” Dean says, and Cas swats the older man’s hand to erase the stupid fake pout off his face.

While Dean walks behind him, carrying a basket, Cas is surfing on aisle over aisle with his eyes alternating between looking at his phone and reading the tags over each products.

“Come on, we need to get cream. I think I’m running out of it at home,” Cas tells Dean. He follows Cas.

Cas dumps quite a lot of things into the basket. Dean notices cream, milk, cheese, instant pudding, and loads of chocolate there. Cas then pulls him to fruit and vegetables section. He takes his time checking reddish purple, strange looking fruits—or vegetables, Dean doesn’t care—weighing and comparing one in each hand.

When he finally puts the one he deems the best, Cas notices the confused look on Dean’s face. “It’s beet. They’re used to make red color in red velvet cake. I prefer using this to food coloring. I think it’s healthier,” he explains. Dean nods in understanding.

“Don’t forget about my pie,” Dean reminds him.

 “I won’t.” Cas smiles and strokes Dean’s cheek gently for a quick moment.

Apparently a worker sees this and scurries over to their side. She hands out a heart-shaped chocolate box with little chocolate hearts in it. “Hi! Dairiest is currently having a promo. If you buy one of Dairiest’s Couple Treat, you will get a coupon to be included in our raffle. Would you two lovely lovebirds be interested to join?”

This time, both Dean and Cas blushes at her words. Cas looks up at his boyfriend, clearly waiting for his decision. Dean shifts his basket to his left hand so his right hand can snake around Cas’ waist and pull him closer against his side. Cas feels his face heats up at the growing smile on the worker’s face.

“Okay, we’ll take it. Won’t you, babe?” Dean asks Cas lightly.

“I think it’d be great,” Cas answers.

“Great!” the girl, whose name tag shows that her name is Nora, is practically beaming. “If you’ll follow me, I can show you some choices in case you don’t like the boring dark chocolate flavor.”

The couple follows Nora to what turns out to be her product’s promotion booth. There are kinds of chocolates offered by Dairiest lined up in display. The most eye-catching display has a big sign in it, with “Couple Treat” written in big capitals. Cas looks rather excited to choose.

“You can choose whatever you want, no matter how much you want it, you know. Don’t think too hard about it. Your heart is going to burst if you keep up the frown,” Dean teases.

“One, this is an important deliberation that you will never understand. Two, there has yet to be a scientific evidence that the existence of a frown affects the health state of someone’s heart. Three, you can go fuck yourself, Winchester.”

Cas says all that without even looking at Dean, and the green-eyed man laughs in amusement. And Dean _really_ laughs; eyes crinkling, body shaking, and head thrown back as he lets out a freeing laugh. He has never felt this great for a long time, and for once, he isn’t just content. Dean is happy.

Nora is observing the whole time and she comes up beside Dean. “He’s truly a keeper, Mr. Winchester,” she comments, and Dean can’t agree more.

“I know,” Dean nods, a huge grin plastered on his face. “He really makes the world a better place. I can’t imagine my life without him. Like, oh god, how do I deserve this guy?”

Dean’s laugh brings another smile in Nora’s face, and this time the smile is wider. “You’re really in love with him, huh?” she asks.

“That obvious?” Dean turns to look at her with a grin.

Nora’s smile is enough answer for Dean.

“I’ll have the chocolate milk and white chocolate pack, please,” Cas says, pointing at the chocolates he wants.

Nora goes from Dean’s side to her booth. “Definitely,” she says sweetly. She picks Cas’ choice of chocolates and ties the three together with a blue tie.

Cas accepts the chocolates and comments, “They’re pretty.”

“I agree. They really bring out your eyes,” Nora states.

Cas laughs and ducks his head shyly. He mutters his thank you.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m one jealous motherfucker, y’know,” Dean joins in jokingly.

“Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream about it,” Nora laughs. She then ushers Dean and Cas to her booth where there’s a spinning wheel.

Nora jots something down on her note before she says to the couple, “Well, you have one chance to win it. Time is yours.”

Dean and Cas looks at each other.

“It’s all yours, Your Highness,” Dean says quickly before Cas can cut him off.

Cas smiles and replies, “Don’t be mad if I don’t win.”

“Then I’ll give you my good luck,” Dean says. He brings Cas’ hand to his lips and he kisses the knuckles. Cas blushes under the attention.

The spinning wheel has some options. The most common one is a free chocolate bar. Cas takes a deep breath. He glances at Dean who’s smiling encouragingly at him, and he spins.

Three pairs of eyes follow the movement of the wheel with breaths held. The wheel then slows to a stop. The arrow points at a pink line with “Casanova Dinner for Two!” written on it.

“Oh, congratulations! You got the second prize! You get a dinner reservation for two at Casanova Restaurant. Wait, I’ll go get the envelope first,” Nora tells Dean and Cas before rummaging her booth’s shelf. She pulls out a white envelope with beautiful pattern made of golden linen decorating it.

“Casanova, as in the restaurant near the beach? Wow, that’s rad,” Dean comments amusedly.

“Yep! Perfect place to spend a romantic night with your loved one,” Nora replies with a grin. She then hands the envelope to Dean. “This is the pass. The pass only applies on November 21th from 5 pm until the restaurant close. And it doesn’t cover the accommodation fee.”

Dean and Cas eyes the envelope given to them. Nora smiles softly at the couple. “I hope you will have a wonderful time,” she says kindly.

“Thank you,” Cas replies.

Nora has been sweet and kind, but Cas has to come home if he wants to make his cake and pie. So the couple bids their goodbye to Nora and goes to the cashier pay for their items.

Dean and Cas pays for their purchase. They don’t take their time to go into the Impala and drive away. This time, Dean lets Cas pick a music of his choice. It’s worth it to see Cas so radiant in happiness. He settles with a radio station playing _Someone Like You_.

“You are such a sap,” Dean laughs and ruffles Cas’ hair.

“Am not.” Cas swats Dean’s hand away. “Put your hands on the steering wheel, Dean. I don’t want my cause of death to be ‘death by boyfriend’s stupidity’.”

“Okay, okay.” Dean ruffles Cas’ hair one last time, enjoying the feeling of soft locks under his fingers, before he focuses on driving.

 _Someone Like You_ changes into _Transatlanticism_. Cas perks up at the gentle, lilting music. He turns the volume up one notch before resting his temple on the Impala’s window. The bumps make it uncomfortable for him, but Cas isn’t bothered by it. He closes his eyes and breathes.

At a red light, Dean uses the opportunity to look at Castiel. His boyfriend has his eyes half-lidded, and his breath creates fog in the window. Dean reaches out to cover Cas’ hand. Cas looks at him and smiles gently, his hand now holding Dean’s.

“Are you cold?” Dean asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer when he sees Cas’ lips looking slightly purplish. “Wait, lemme turn on the heater.”

The air in the car is warmer. Dean just remembers that winter is coming in a few weeks. He looks at Cas again, and he’s relieved that Cas looks better. At least he doesn’t look cold or shivering.

“Hey, it’s already green. Let’s go,” Cas reminds him. Dean glances at the traffic light which has turned green. The Impala continues driving through the chilly street.

* * *

 

Cas has lightly dozed off during the ride, and when he’s fully awake, Dean is smiling at him and says, “We’re home.”

The word ‘home’ rolls out of Dean’s tongue, and Cas feels his heart blossom. There is warmth and safety in that one word, the recognition of Dean finding Cas’ house as his home, as his place where he feels needed and accepted. Cas smiles and touches Dean’s hand. He wants Dean to know how Cas appreciates what he’s done, even the smallest things, and that he loves him. Cas loves him so much.

Dean leans closer to give Cas a kiss which steals his breath away. Dean’s hand is holding his face so gently, and Cas wants to give in to the sensation. He wants to drown in the feelings Dean sparks again within him.

“We’re home, yeah?” Dean whispers against Cas’ lips, and it gets Cas breathing again.

“Of course,” Cas says softly. He smiles against the touch of Dean’s lips against his.

Dean retracts himself from Cas to get out of the car and opens the car’s door for him. Cas goes to unlock the door while Dean takes their groceries. Seeing Dean fumbling slightly with the bags makes Cas extend his hands to help, but Dean just shakes his head and ushers him to enter the house.

The house is quiet, Cas suddenly realizes. There isn’t anything different with it. Cas has always come home to an empty house ever since he moved in from his apartment, and it’s grown in him. The serenity is calming. He can enjoy an afternoon sitting near his room’s windowsill with a book on his hand and a blanket draped over his shoulder without having to mind the world’s cacophony. All in all, Cas enjoys quietness. He still does. But coming home with Dean by his side, Cas realizes that even if he likes quietness, he doesn’t fancy the loneliness which comes along.

“What’re you staring at? C’mon, let’s get these to the kitchen,” Dean tells him, gesturing at the bags of groceries.

Cas brushes the hair falling on his face and answers, “Coming.” He asks to bring one of the bags and Dean lets him bring the lightest one.

The shelves in Castiel’s pantry aren’t empty, but he always finds way to fit everything. The one thing always present is fruits. Cas has plenty in the refrigerator and in the dining table. Cas stores the grapes, apples, and beets he bought into their place.

Dean, with Cas’ direction, helps putting things into their shelves. He would comment every here and there, and it isn’t rare for Cas to respond with a laugh or a light smack to Dean’s arm.

When their work is done, Dean stands with both hands on his hips, eyes scanning the room with a satisfied smile in his lips. Cas feels equally pleased.

“Oh, I forgot!” Cas suddenly says. “You haven’t had lunch, right? Do you mind spaghetti? I think I still have it somewhere.”

“I’m okay as long as you made it,” Dean replies.

Cas looks at him with a smile tugging at his lips. “Look who’s a sap now,” he teases.

Dean shrugs. “You’re infectious,” he says as he lands a kiss to Cas’ temple. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Not at the moment. But I’ll call you when I need you to prepare my infused water. I hope you don’t mind strawberry, blueberry, and mint?” Cas asks.

“Is it good?”

“I think so.”

“I’m counting on you.”

Cas’ mouth uncurls as he forms a smile. He doesn’t reply, and simply shoos Dean away from the kitchen. He hears Dean’s laugh until it fades. The sound of TV replaces it.

The pack of spaghetti is on Cas’ hand after a bit of rummaging. He prepares some ingredients for the sauce. He considers adding cheese, but remembers that Dean isn’t big on cheese on his spaghetti, so he decides against it. Cas searches his refrigerator again and finds minced beef. Cas thinks to himself, for someone who doesn’t need to cook fancy food, he sure has quite a lot of things.

Cas hasn’t made spaghetti in a while. They’re usually reserved for special occasion with big guests. He usually eats simple food with a rather small portion. He also needs to watch out for his food as there are things strictly prohibited for him to eat. _Oh, the perks of having a heart disease_ , Cas thinks dryly. But Cas still remembers how to make the most wondrous Bolognese sauce, courtesy to Mrs. Mosby living just a couple houses down.

As usual, Cas takes joy of cooking. He finds it rather calming for him to cook or bake whenever things get rough and forces him into a breakdown. He likes having his hands creating something, and he loves that the something is one that will please someone. He hums _Twist and Shout_ while his hands skillfully chop tomatoes. Then he dices onions, celery, carrots, and garlic. Everything goes into the saucepan before Cas adds some herbs to it too. For his own indulgence, Cas adds some wine. The spaghetti is boiling on a pot beside the saucepan.

Cas is stirring the sauce when Dean shouts from the living room, “Smells real good from here, Cas!”

“Thank you!” Cas shouts back with a wide smile. He can’t wait until Dean tastes this. To see him so happy makes Cas feel pleased and rather proud.

Cas brings the wooden spoon he uses to stir the sauce and tastes the sauce. He’s happy with the result. The spaghetti is also ready.

“Dean—”

“Already here, baby.” Dean suddenly has his arms around Cas as he nuzzles his boyfriend’s neck. “Smells delicious.”

“Yeah? Me or the spaghetti?” Cas teases.

“Both,” Dean replies, and Cas chuckles.

Cas then remembers about the task he trusted Dean with. He pries away Dean’s hands gently before telling him, “Go get the infused water in the refrigerator. Look for the one with strawberry and blueberry. Then get two mason jar mugs from the cabinet.”

Cas quickly serves his spaghetti into two plates, one with bigger portion than the other. He brings it to the living room and places it on the table. Dean follows behind him with two mason jar mugs in one hand and a bottle of infused water in another.

“This one’s for me?” Dean asks, pointing at the plate with bigger portion. Cas nods and reminds him to be careful because it may still be too hot. When Dean deems the spaghetti to be safe to eat, he immediately dives in.

Cas waits for Dean’s reaction. The reaction he gets is Dean closing his eyes shut and making a pleased sound. He twirls his fork to scoop more spaghetti, and he munches on it with such gusto.

“Is it that good?” Cas asks him. He knows his foods taste good, but he doesn’t think it’s that good to make someone have a mouth-gasm.

“Is it that—you serious!?” Dean looks at him with such disbelief and shakes his head. “Close your eyes.”

“What?” Cas tilts his head, confused of Dean’s order.

“Trust me, and close your eyes,” Dean says again, more firmly.

Cas still wonders, but he complies anyway. He closes his eyes and lets darkness envelopes his vision. He’s tempted to take a peek, but decides against it.

“Open your mouth,” Dean orders again.

Now Cas understands. He opens his mouth, then parts his lips wider when he feels something nudge at his bottom lips. A moment later the taste of the rich pasta hits his tongue. He instinctively chews and makes a pleased sigh.

“When you have your sense focused on one, you can really understand how good your cooking is,” Dean states. “And now you understand, right?”

Cas opens his eyes. “Yes, it’s actually really good,” he says thoughtfully. Then he smiles and looks straight at Dean and tells him, “This makes me … really happy.”

“Want me to feed you again?” Dean offers genuinely.

“Can I?”

“Why do you even ask?”

Cas’ smile turns into a grin. He brushes his hair to the back of his ear and shifts in his seat. Dean feeds him another piece, and Cas enjoys it as much as the first bite.

Dean alternates between eating and feeding Cas another bite. They’re silent as they enjoy the moment in the tranquility. The only sound comes from Cas’ television which has its volume lowered down. During the time, Cas has shifted from sitting beside Dean to leaning on Dean’s shoulder. Dean doesn’t have any issue with it.

The couple eats until both their plates are empty. Cas places them on the table for him to wash later. He pours the infused water to both mugs and drinks one. He can immediately feel the sharp taste of mint. The sour and sweet flavors from the berries make a good combination with it.

“It’s actually kinda good,” Dean comments after takes a sip. He proceeds to gulp the drink down until his mug is empty.

“And it’s healthy, too,” Cas adds.

“Can’t argue with that.” Dean nods his agreement.

When both their mugs are empty, Cas stands up to gather the dirty dishes and wash them. Dean stops him. “Let me. I know you’re tired. Rest a bit,” he tells him.

Cas usually argues, but right now he’s extremely grateful to be spoiled by his loving boyfriend. He smiles and says a quiet, “Thank you.”

With Dean doing the dishes, Cas can relax and enjoy his time. He remembers about making red velvet cake and pie, but he doesn’t feel like doing it today. _Maybe Dean will let me make his pie tomorrow_ , he thinks. With the way Dean is behaving, Cas is fairly sure his boyfriend will understand.

Armed with a remote in his hand, Cas begins channel-surfing. He flicks from one channel to another without any purpose. He skips news, soap opera, and stops a bit at cartoon before changing the channel anyway.

The dark-haired man finally stops at one channel showing Hell’s Kitchen. Gordon Ramsay is yelling out strings of curses to the incompetent cooks, and Cas is lying if he says he isn’t enjoying it.

Dean joins him not so long after, and Cas snuggles against him.

“Dean, do you mind if I bake you pie tomorrow? I’m kinda tired,” Cas mumbles.

“It’s okay, babe. Take your time, okay? I’ll be patient,” Dean assures him.

They spend the afternoon cuddling, laughing at Gordon Ramsay losing his shit. Hell’s Kitchen changes into one cheesy soap opera. Cas gets up to bring some fruits from the kitchen. Dean feeds him again, and now Cas feels really spoiled. Dean is having none of it, though.

“You’ve been through a lot. You’ve cared so much. Now let me care for you, yeah?” Dean says those words against Cas’ ear ever so softly, and Cas selfishly takes them all in, let them be carved into his memory. It’s all too little and too much; too little for the endless possibilities stretching from one corner of the universe to the other of the life they could’ve shared if fate hasn’t gotten in the way, and too much for his dying heart could hold. But Cas still takes everything, hoping that those words are the ones he will whisper to the ferryman of the river of Styx once he cruises through it.

Cas pulls Dean to an embrace, and he traces his fingers over the freckled skin. “Thank you,” he whispers and hopes that Dean can feel his emotions spilling through the words and seep into every pores.

“I love you, Cas, you know that?” Dean asks, and Cas nods before burying his face into the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean has his hand tight around him, shielding him from the cruelty of the world.

The next seconds come in blurs. He remembers counting the freckles in Dean’s face. He doesn’t get past eleven when he feels Dean’s hand on his face, and Cas melts into the touch. He closes his eyes and chases the feel of Dean’s lips against his. They kiss until they run out of breath.

Cas lets out a breathy moan when Dean kisses and sucks his pulse point. His hands have gone from around Dean’s neck to grasping Dean’s hair. Cas throws his neck back to give Dean more space for his sinful mouth to lavish. His breath is hitched and the only voice he lets out is moans and gasps.

“You feel so good, Cas,” Dean murmurs, his mouth nibbling Cas’ earlobe. The lust in his voice makes Cas shudder.

Cas untangles himself from Dean to stand up. He takes Dean’s hand to raise him from his seat too. He steps closer, eliminating every inch of space between them. “Wanna take this upstairs?” he asks in a low voice.

“Can I?” Dean asks back through lust-clouded eyes.

The answer to Dean’s question is Cas jumping to wrap his legs around Dean’s waist. Dean’s hands are quick to hold him in place by his hips. Cas throws his hands around Dean’s neck and crushes his lips against Dean’s. Cas’ lips part to let Dean’s tongue enter. Dean _wrecks_ him, and when they’re done, Cas is left panting and flushed red.

“Upstairs, now,” Cas commands firmly. Dean laughs breathily and makes his way to their room.

They can’t keep their hands off each other on the way, and Dean has to pin Cas to the wall at one point to give his hungry lips a fierce kiss. Their bodies have begun sweating and their skin is hot to touch, but that doesn’t deter them in the slightest to keep having contact. Dean especially likes to touch because he enjoys hearing the voices Cas is emitting.

After what seems like a lifetime, Dean finally gets them to their room. Dean immediately drops Cas to the bed. Cas lies in bed with half-lidded eyes and red cheeks. His chest heaves in quick rise and fall, and Dean notes to be careful with his breathing. Cas stares at Dean, and the blueness of his eyes are almost drowned by the blackness of his lust. Dean knows Cas is inviting him, but first he wants to admire the view of Cas spread in front of him, so gorgeous for him.

“Dean,” Cas whines. He extends one arm to bring Dean down with him.

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you, baby,” Dean shushes him. He crawls on the bed and takes Cas’ hand in his. Dean’s fingers fit between the spaces of Cas’ fingers, and Dean feels this is where he’s supposed to be.

This is home.

Dean kisses Cas again, gentler but as passionate as before. He pops the buttons of Cas’ shirt one by one until his bare chest is laid out in front of him. It’s as red as his cheeks, and Cas’ nipples harden at the cool air brushing them.

Cas pants, his body feels feverish, and he aches with something to touch. He’s about to tell Dean to get it on when Dean laves one of his nipples and every coherent thought escapes his mind. He throws his hands to cover his eyes and he squirms as his nerves are stimulated.

When Dean stops abusing his nipple, Cas’ head clears out a bit for him to tug at Dean’s tee. Dean gets his gesture and the fabric comes off in a blink of an eye, thrown across the room without the two minding it.

“Please, Dean—” Cas’ breath hitches, and he doesn’t even know why he’s begging except that he _needs_ to have something touching his skin.

Dean laughs. “I know, baby,” he says.

Dean’s tongue finds Cas’ chest again, and it trails down to Cas’ abdomen. His hands work on the waistband of Cas’ pants. Cas lifts his hips so Dean can pull his pants off. His boxer comes next. His cock springs without the confinement of his boxer, already hard and glistening with precome at the tip.

“You too—off,” Cas says.

Dean hums and stands to take his jeans off. Just like the rest of their clothing, it’s thrown away and scattered on the floor. Cas can see the visible bulge in his boxer. Dean doesn’t take his time before losing it too. His cock is erect, and Cas knows it’s big. He’s had sex with Dean plenty of times before when they were teenagers, but he almost forgot the sensation by now.

“Bottom left drawer,” Cas tells Dean before Dean can ask for lube.

The lube is in Dean’s hand in no time. Cas expects his lover to start preparing him, so he’s surprised when Dean puts the lube aside in favor of holding his hips and shoulder and kissing him. Dean’s body covers Cas’ entirely, as if to shield him from view.

Dean kisses Cas slowly, like he carries a sweet sin for Cas to indulge in. He starts by biting lightly at Cas’ bottom lips, and he enjoys seeing Cas’ parted lips. Dean doesn’t rush putting his tongue in his lover’s mouth. He doesn’t want racing heartbeat or sweaty palms clawing at his back or desperate touches chasing sensations. He wants to take this slow so they can remember that this moment exists as a proof that they truly love each other, for this may be their last.

Cas’ hands touches Dean’s arms and he admires the strength of his muscle. It makes him imagine the hardship Dean has done these past six years, and he’s grateful for it for making his lover a strong man he is now. His hands trail down to Dean’s chest where he wants to bury his face in whenever he needs a place to cry on. Then his fingers grasp at Dean’s back. Dean’s back is broad and strong, and Cas wants to shield behind it. To feel it means to imagine of him behind that back, being protected and safe.

“Cas,” Dean calls him in a low voice. “Are you ready for this?”

“Yes, Dean. Please, I need you,” Cas says a little breathlessly. Dean searches his eyes for any sight of reluctance, but Cas nods his approval, and Dean is assured.

The bottle of lube that was lying abandoned in the bed is picked up by Dean, and he pours it over his fingers. Dean’s left hand brushes Cas’ hair, and with a gentle voice he asks, “I’m gonna stretch you now, and I need you to relax. Can you do that, Cas?”

“Yeah, okay,” Cas answers. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. Tension seeps out of his shoulder.

Dean inserts one finger through Cas’ rim. Cas instinctively tenses and his ass clenches on the finger. Dean rubs soothing circle on his shoulder and Cas relaxes again. Dean continues pushing his finger slowly until it’s buried up to the knuckle.

“You’re so tight, aren’t you, babe?” Dean asks with lust noticeable in his voice.

Cas doesn’t answer. He focuses on trying to make his breath steady. When the existence of Dean’s finger in his ass doesn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, he tells Dean, “More.”

Hearing it, Dean pulls out his finger to insert two. This time Cas already learns to relax, so Dean doesn’t meet any resistance. He makes a scissoring movement to make the passage smoother. Cas squirms a little, but one look from Dean makes him try to keep still.

Dean puts in one more finger, and now Cas has three fingers buried in his ass. Dean has already applied more lube, so he can move smoother. He keeps pushing and searching, pressing his fingers on the walls.

“Oh! Dean, that— _ah_!” Cas gasps and makes a keening sound when he feels Dean’s fingers hit something in him that sends him flying. He thrusts his hips back down frantically to hit that spot again. Dean wriggles his fingers and jabs at Cas’ prostate again, and Cas shuts his eyes and moans.

Repeatedly, Dean keeps hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves. Cas moans in ecstasy. Precome drips from his cock on to his stomach. Dean then eases his fingers out, and Cas whines at the emptiness.

“Be patient, baby,” Dean reminds him. Cas stops squirming and waits for Dean with bated breath.

Dean squeezes the bottle of lube and pours a generous amount. The liquid feels cold on his cock. When he’s done, he lines up his cock with Cas’ entrance. He asks Cas to relax again before slowly pushing the head past Cas’ rim.

Dean takes his time, making sure Cas is ready and isn’t hurt. Cas apparently grows impatient. “Just get it on already,” he growls, and who is Dean to reject.

With one final push, Dean is seated deep in his ass, and the sensation is mind-blowing. Dean is sure he and Cas are moaning loudly but he can barely hear over the spinning sensation in his head. His vision whitens for a moment and he sees stars. He needs to use his elbow to hold him up. The inside of Cas’ ass is hot and wet and tight, and it’s just perfect.

His sight clears and what he sees takes his breath away. Cas is laid out in bed, chest heaving up and down with hickeys and bite marks peppering his pale body. Cas’ face is flushed red, his lips swollen and shiny with saliva. He seems to realize Dean’s stare. His cheeks redden—if that’s even possible—and he brings up his hands to cover his face.

Dean laughs and gently pries one hand away. He kisses the knuckles and whispers, “What’s wrong, baby?”

Cas blushes again, stammering, “I just … I haven’t done it for a long time. I, um, I’m kinda nervous…” Cas stops, his lashes fluttering shyly, before answering in a hushed whisper, “I don’t want this to be bad for you.”

A gentle smile appears in Dean’s face. He brushes the strands sticking up on Cas’ face from his sweat and kisses his temple. He takes Cas’ another hand and holds it before giving a gentle peck on his lips.

“Don’t be. You’re amazing, and I promise we’ll both make this good, okay?” Dean says to Cas softly.

Cas takes a deep breath and nods. This time, when Dean kisses him, he kisses back, his lips chasing the feel of Dean against him. Dean pushes his tongue inside Cas’ mouth, exploring the wetness and heat inside. Cas’ right hand latch into Dean’s neck, forcing him to deepen the kiss, while his other hand grips tightly at Dean’s back.

The heat of the kiss pushes Cas over the edge. He squirms under Dean’s weight, his well-trimmed nails scratching at Dean’s back, leaving a long red mark on the tanned skin. Dean cuts the kiss to breathe, his breathe panting and eyes clouded with lust, before he dives in for another kiss.

“Dean, please,” Cas whimpers.

“Okay,” Dean breathes out, “Okay.”

Cas extends one hand to pull Dean, but Dean takes it with his own. He intertwines their fingers together, his fingers fitting perfectly on the slot between Cas’ fingers. He thinks of how they’re made for each other, eyes transfixed on their entwined hands.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” Dean whispers softly, reassuring Cas by kissing his forehead.

Dean stays unmoving for a few seconds, giving feather-light kisses across Cas’ face, before Cas opens his eyes and nods. Dean takes the silent gesture as his permission before he starts moving.

The sensation is unbearable. Cas is so wet, hot, and tight inside. Every slide of Dean’s cock inside his ass feels amazing, and by the sound Cas is making, he seems to be enjoying this just as much as Dean is. Dean thrusts again, careful not to be too rough, but still enough to pleasure both Cas and himself.

A few thrusts later, Dean hits something inside Cas that makes the smaller man nearly scream. Cas lets out a keening moan. Every single nerve inside him is screaming, _begging_ for more of whatever is that. When Dean hits that spot again, the pleasure is almost blinding. Cas’ toes curl, his eyes shoot up, and his mind goes blank for a second.

Cas brings his hands around Dean’s neck, pulling the bigger man closer to him.  “Dean, please … I-I need—”

“Shh, I know, baby,” Dean whispers, pressing his lips against Cas’ pulse point. Cas sucks in harsh breath. Dean changes his position. His elbows are on either side of Cas’ hands, supporting his weight. Cas spreads his legs wider. Dean waits until Cas gives him a desperate nod to start thrusting again.

It feels like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs. Senses explode within him. Dean carefully pistons his hips, slamming his cock into Cas’ prostate over and over again. Everything becomes unbearable; too hot, too dizzying, but Cas wants _more_.

“Dean,” Cas whines and claws at Dean’s back. He wraps his legs around Dean, pushing him to go deeper.

Dean responds by doing exactly that. He’s relentless, pushing harder and deeper into Cas. Sweat drips from his chest. Lust is visible in his eyes. Cas grinds their hips together to search for more friction, groaning when the stimulation starts to feel overwhelming. He can hear himself letting out sounds he can’t believe he can make, and he’d feel embarrassed if he isn’t so far gone.

Cas’ face is flushed and he’s panting. Dean slows his pace to not overwork Cas. He pulls Cas by the chin and captures his kiss-swollen lips. Cas clings into him, so hot and desperate. Dean pumps harder into Cas, and Cas breaks the kiss in favor to let out a long, keening moan, his back arched and face completely debauched.

With another hard thrust, Cas clenches down on Dean’s cock hammering into him. The world feels like it’s compressed into a little space before exploding right before his eyes. Cas’ mouth is open, but no voice comes out. His vision whitens, his body burns hot, and his nerves scream pleasure as his cock spurts out ropes of sticky white come that cover his abdomen, chest, and even his chin. Cas can’t do anything but helplessly ride out one of the most mind-blowing orgasm he’s ever had.

Dean feels the clench of Cas’ ass and he knows he isn’t going to last longer. His cock is so hard, and his nerves are screaming at him. He thrusts a few more times, capturing Cas’ mouth in an open-mouthed kiss. With one powerful snap of his hips, Dean groans and spills inside Cas.

Cas feels the warmth inside him and he sighs. He sags into the cover, his nerves still tingling after recovering from the high. He feels sore and boneless feeling after being thoroughly fucked, but it’s a good kind of feeling.

Slowly, Dean pulls out. His come seeps out from Cas’ hole. Dean maneuvers and slots himself behind Cas. He gives a gentle kiss to Cas’ sweaty nape. Cas sighs and takes Dean’s hand, holding it over his chest.

“That was amazing,” Dean laughs breathlessly.

Cas turns to face Dean and surges up to kiss him. He’s too tired, so he lets Dean take the lead. Dean caresses his face and strokes his messy sexed-up hair. Cas closes his eyes and lets Dean pampers him with love and adoration.

Dean kisses Cas’ eyelids and whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

And it’s true. In front of Dean is the sea and the sky, the stars and the moons, the angels and the mortals, the atoms and stardust with billion years worth of journey all knitted into one perfect individual. Dean admires this fragile beauty in his embrace.

“Love you,” Dean says with a smile.

“Love you more,” Cas replies in a barely audible whisper.

Dean pulls Cas closer against him, relishing the warmth in his skin. “Love you most,” Dean says as he kisses Cas’ forehead.

Cas smiles, eyelids already drooping over beautiful blue eyes. He falls asleep like a graceful swan, and Dean is captivated by him. Years of exploring the world, and still Dean can’t find something that can compare to this.

Dean wonders if God was thinking about Heaven when he created Cas.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm exists as the happy moments Dean and Cas share before Michael's arrival. Dean has always expected things to go ugly, but he doesn't foresee the unexpected outcome where Castiel collapses.

Something tickles Dean’s nose and Dean frowns and shakes his head. He shuts his eyes tighter and snuggles closer against the warm and soft thing on his embrace. But that something is insistent, and he finally gives up. He opens his eyes and blinks vehemently.

As his sight clears, Dean realizes that he’s spooning with Cas, his chest against the smaller man’s back, and that thing tickling his nose is Cas’ hair. Dean has his one hand draped over Cas’ torso and their legs are tangled. Cas’ breathing is slow but even. He doesn’t wake when Dean shifts to find a more comfortable position.

Dean smiles and brushes the hair from Cas’ face. He kisses the nape of Cas’ neck, lets his breath ghost over the pale, unblemished skin, before muttering, “Morning, sunshine.”

There’s a movement now, but Cas only stirs to unconsciously lean closer against Dean. Dean rests his forehead against Cas’ head and lets his hand—the one not trapped under Cas’ weight—travel lightly across his lover’s abdomen and chest. Memories from last night resurface, and it makes Dean smile wider.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Dean breathes before placing butterfly kisses across Cas’ nape and shoulder blades.

Some times between admiring the beauty of his lover and pampering him with love and care, Dean remembers that last night they almost immediately fell asleep without cleaning themselves up first. He lowers the thick blanket covering the lower half of their body, and as he expects, there are dried semen on the inside of Cas’ thigh, trailing to his little hole.

Dean strokes Cas’ waist, down to his hips and thigh. The skin feels smooth on his fingertips. Cas stirs again, but he still doesn’t wake up.

The morning is serene, with nothing but the sound of wind and the steady breaths of the two people on the bed. Dean wants to remember this moment. He wants to take in the sunlight streaming from the window, the sound of a lazy morning, the sight of Cas sleeping soundly in his embrace. He wants to lock it away and ingrain it into his brain so he’d never forget.

In the end, Dean decides to wake up. He doesn’t know how long he’s been up, doing nothing but lying on bed with the feel of his lover’s body against his chest. The mechanic wakes up, careful as to not wake Cas, and goes to clean himself. He’s sticky with sweat and he smells of sex. In that situation, dipping his body into a bathtub filled with hot water is the best feeling in the world.

When he’s done washing himself, Dean gets out of the bathroom. Cas is still asleep and he hasn’t changed his position since Dean left him.

 _He must be really tired after that_ , Dean thinks.

Dean smiles and strokes Cas’ hair. He figures he has to do something nice for Cas to wake up to. He changes into clean shirt and pants—Dean mentally reminds himself to put his clothes on the wardrobe—and heads downstairs.

He opens the kitchen cabinets to look for ingredients for breakfast. He can’t do complicated dishes, but he certainly knows some foods that can make his taste buds crave for more.

“Eggs in a basket it is,” he says to himself, smiling widely as he picks the ingredients. It’s simple and fast to make. With eggs, bread, butter, salt, and pepper he can already make one wonderful dish. Dean also adds sausage because he feels like eating meat today.

The stove has one pan making the eggs in a basket and another with sausages sizzling on it. In less than fifteen minutes, he has two plates of eggs in a basket with sausage ready. Dean opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of infused water. It has lemon, cucumber, and mint leaves floating in it.

With a wide grin, Dean carries the breakfast tray upstairs. He opens the door just in time with Cas waking up and stretching on bed.

“Dean?” Cas asks with sleep-induced hoarse voice. “Is that breakfast?”

“Yep,” Dean answers, grinning from ear-to-ear.

The sleepiness in Cas’ clear blue eyes has gone and he widens his eyes in surprise. “You don’t need to—”

“Shh, I’m not taking any no,” Dean cuts him off.

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. He smiles; the kind of smile with his mouth stretched wide and makes his eyes crinkle. There’s warmth radiating from his body and Dean feels like his teenager self looking at Cas for the first time again.

“Is it eggs and basket?” Cas asks when Dean places the tray down in front of him.

“Mm-hmm,” Dean hums his agreement. “And sausages too.”

Cas looks incredibly happy and he hugs Dean. “Thank you, Dean,” he says with joy clear in his voice.

“But it’s just—”

“Shh.” Cas places one finger on Dean’s lips. “I’m not taking any no.”

“Of course, smartass,” Dean replies. He puts his hand around Cas, pulling him against his side. Dean kisses his temple, and Cas sighs happily.

They eat together on their bed. There’s come stain on one side of the bed that they avoid, but they love being huddled close near each other, so there’s no complain from them.

Cas takes a bite from his bread. His eyes widen again. “This is really good,” he comments before taking another bite. Dean feeds him a piece of sausage to go with the bread and egg.

“Of course. How do you think I’ve been keeping myself fed?” Dean asks, feeding another piece to Cas.

Unlike Dean, Cas swallows first before answering. “Takeaway?”

“I’m not that hopeless, Cas,” Dean replies, to which Cas giggles.

Their breakfast is finished in no time. Cas stands up to collect the dishes, but he winces at the soreness on his lower back. Dean notices right away and grabs a hold of Cas’ arm to steady him in case he falls.

“Does it hurt? Was I too rough last night?” Dean asks worriedly.

“No, it’s fine. You weren’t,” Cas assures him. He adds teasingly, “You know it’s normal to feel sore afterwards, right?”

“Hey, I’m not a teenager experiencing his first sex, y’know,” Dean grumbles.

“Of course you aren’t,” Cas replies again with a grin.

“Yeah, keep talking while I remember someone who was squirming and moaning so loudly when he lost his virginity to me. Damn, good times,” Dean replies and he savors how fast Cas’ face turns red.

“Dean!” Cas screeches.

“That’s what he said.” Dean winks and Cas’ face turns even redder. Dean laughs before taking the dirty plates from his boyfriend’s hand. “Okay, I’m shutting up now. And you, go take a bath and clean yourself while I do the dishes.”

Cas is still glowering, but he complies. He suddenly becomes very aware of his nakedness. With hurried steps, he enters his bathroom. He dips his hand on the water in the tub and feels the heat. Cas opens the tap and lets hot water fill the tub. He’s grateful that Dean has prepared him a nice hot bath for him.

The water feels nice in his skin, especially his sore muscle. He massages his lower back gently to soothe the dull pain there. Dean was thorough with the preparation last night, but Cas figures not having sex for six years has taken its toll on him.

Cas washes his body thoroughly using a lavender-scented soap Gabriel bought him. He especially takes great care of his buttocks and thighs. He can feel Dean’s dried come coating his skin and he frowns in displeasure. Careful fingers slip inside his hole to clean whatever mess left. Then he washes the rim and cheeks. The inside of his thighs feels uncomfortable, Cas just realizes, and he soaps the area too.

By the time he’s wrapping a towel around his waist, Cas’ body feels ultimately better. The soreness is gone and he feels fresher. Dean isn’t in their bedroom anymore when Cas comes in to change, but there are clothes folded neatly on the bed. Cas smiles at that.

When Cas takes a closer look, though, he realizes that the t-shirt on the bed isn’t his. The AC/DC logo on the front states clearly of who its owner really is. Cas examines the fabric with a frown. Why would Dean leave him his tee? The t-shirt itself is bigger than Cas’ size. When he wears it, it ends in the middle of his thigh and he looks drowning in it. Just like that, he realizes that he has lost quite a lot of weight.

Cas finds Dean on the kitchen, making a cup of coffee. The dishes are already done, Cas notes.

“Dean?” Cas calls out.

Dean looks up from his coffee and smiles when Cas walks in. “Hey, baby. You look good.”

Cas can feel Dean’s eyes looking at him up and down, and he feels slightly self-conscious as he crosses his hands in front of him and pulls the hem of the tee to cover more skin. “Do you wanna go with the boyfriend shirt theme today?” he asks, a smile tugging at a corner of his lips.

“Maybe,” Dean shrugs. He extends one hand as an invitation for Cas to join him. The smile he sends Cas makes the blue-eyed man’s heart flutter. “All I know is you look really good in it.”

Cas lets out a gentle laugh before stepping into the room. He takes Dean’s hand and, as usual, Dean leads him to sit on his lap. Not that Cas minds, anyway.

“Still like black coffee?” Cas asks.

Dean hums an agreement for his boyfriend’s question before taking a sip of his coffee.

Cas sits in Dean’s lap until the mechanic finishes his coffee. Then he takes the empty mug and puts it on the sink. Dean immediately latches into him.

“What’cha doin’ now?” Dean asks as he noses Cas’ neck, burying his face in the scent of his lover’s body.

“I don’t know…” Cas says thoughtfully. “Oh, I haven’t made the pie for you and Hannah’s red velvet cake. I think I’ll just bake now.”

“Anything I can help?”

“Not really.” Cas ponders over his answer. “But maybe you can help me tend the flowers? They should be watered today.”

“‘Kay, where’s the watering pot?” Dean asks. He untangles himself from Cas.

“Garden, near the fertilizer and shovel. You’ll find it,” Cas answers. He’s now opening shelves from his cabinets to search for the ingredients for his pie and cake.

“Okay.” Dean places a quick kiss on Cas’ cheek before storming off to the garden. Cas then can hear him shouting, “Lemme know when pie is ready!”

“I will,” Cas shouts back.

With his hands on his hips, Cas recalls the ingredients to make red velvet cake and a delicious apple pie. He counts the things laid out on the kitchen counter, and smiles in satisfaction when everything is there.

Castiel figures he’d start making the red velvet cake first. Lunch is still in a couple more hours, and he figures apple pie is a perfect lunch.

Making red velvet cake for Cas isn’t all that tricky. It’s in fact Cas’ favorite dessert for it isn’t too sweet but still great to taste. He doesn’t make red velvet cake often, but this is one of the few dishes Cas can be sure he has mastered, so his current task is, well, a piece of cake.

Some eggs-cracking, flour-pouring, beet-mixing, and dough-stirring later, Cas is ready to put the cake into the oven. He sets the oven with the correct temperature for a few minutes. During the waiting time, Cas figures he should tell Hannah that her cake is finished and she can retrieve it today.

Cas searches Hannah in his contact list and calls her. It goes to voicemail. Hannah’s voice tells him that she’s currently busy and can probably get back to him a little later.

“Hello, Hannah, this is Castiel. Just letting you know that your red velvet cake is done and you can come to my house this afternoon to take it,” Cas records his message. He taps the red button to end his call.

A glance at the clock reminds Cas that Dean hasn’t come back from the garden. With a cup of warm jasmine tea he just made, he goes to the garden to check on his boyfriend.

Cas places the cup of tea on the small table in his porch and looks for Dean. He finds him crouched on the ground. Cas approaches him.

“Dean,” Cas calls softly, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean jolts in surprise. “Jesus, Cas! No need to surprise me like that. I may not have a heart disease but you can still kill me from cardiac arrest, y’know,” he scolds him.

“Sorry.” Cas looks at Dean sheepishly. “But it’s time to rest. I made you tea, and I can get you some cookies.”

“Okay,” Dean smiles and kisses Cas in the cheek. “Let me get cleaned up a little, yeah?”

Cas nods and smiles back at him. While Dean goes to the bathroom, Cas takes a jar of cookie from the kitchen and waits in the patio. Five minutes later, Dean comes back without dirt and grime in his hands and face. He takes a seat on the chair beside Cas.

The couple enjoys their tea in silence. Cas eyes his garden. He’s happy with Dean’s work. He was a bit worried of Dean, being the rough and brash person he is, would cause some damage on his flowers. Such thing doesn’t happen, though. His flowers still stand beautifully, water droplets gleaming under the sun.

A sudden breeze brings coldness to Cas’ skin, making him shiver. Dean apparently notices this. “Wanna get inside?” he asks with a smile.

Cas nods. He lets Dean pick up the tray. He eyes his garden and the sudden grayness of the sky looming over it before shutting his door. The warmth his house provides him makes him feel safe. Winter is coming, and a side of him that enjoys dark humor is thankful that this year’s winter isn’t going to be freezing cold thanks to the meteor coming to crash into Earth.

It isn’t lunch time yet, but Cas figures he’d better make the apple pie rather than just sit around doing nothing. After Dean puts the empty cups on the sink and places back the cookie jar in its shelf, Cas approaches him to wrap his hands around Dean’s arm.

“What’s with this?” Dean asks amusedly.

Cas closes his eyes and snuggles closer. “You’re warm,” he murmurs. He originally intends to make some physical contact to Dean just for fun, but he feels comfortable like this, like the crook of Dean’s body is just made for him to fit in.

“Okay,” Dean laughs and pulls Cas closer to him.

“Noo, you’re spoiling me,” Cas says, reluctantly releases himself from Dean’s hold. He looks up at the taller man and asks, “About your apple pie, wanna know how the chef works in the kitchen?”

Dean perks up. “Sure!”

Apple pie is one of the most common desserts Cas likes to make. He knows pie isn’t common to be eaten as lunch, but he can always make more foods if he or Dean is still hungry.

Cas tells Dean to get some ingredients from the kitchen cabinets while he picks some apple from his fridge. He makes the pie’s crust first. He’s busy rolling the dough until it’s flat when Dean sneaks up behind him and smears flour on his cheek.

“Wha—Dean!” Cas splutters, shocked. Dean just holds his belly while he laughs. This, of course, makes Castiel fume.

Cas puts his fingers into the flour and surges toward Dean for his payback. Dean manages to dodge, and he grabs Cas by the waist and spins him around before the dark-haired man gets to retaliate. Dean is laughing so freely. It makes all the self control Cas has breaks and he’s laughing too in the end.

“At least let me be even, damn it!” Cas laughs.

Dean finally puts him down and Cas wastes no time to smear lines of flour on Dean’s face. Dean catches his wrists before he can violate his face any further. Cas giggles when Dean kisses the top of his nose.

“C’mon, let’s get it on with the pie. I just can’t wait,” Dean says to him, all smiling, and Cas gives in.

The rest of the cooking doesn’t go uneventful. Dean always finds some ways to make ordinary things interesting. He likes to tease Cas or suddenly pampers him with affection in the form of physical contact. Honestly, Cas would be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

Lunch time comes and the apple pie is already cooling on the dining table. Cas cuts one piece for him and one piece for Dean. He made a fresh apple juice to go with it.

“The smell makes me drool, Cas,” Dean says. Cas chuckles.

Dean takes one bite and the taste of the apple pie explodes in his mouth. He moans in ecstasy. Of all the foods Cas has made him, this one is definitely the best. The crust is crunchy and the apple filling is just the right amount of sweet. It’s the melt-in-your-mouth kind of pie. It’s just so good that it’s unfair for him to only be able to taste it after 26 years of living.

Cas chuckles at Dean’s reaction. He’s about to comment on it when he hears the doorbell rings. He and Dean turn their head, but he stands up first.

“I’ll get that, you just eat. I don’t want it to be Balthazar knocking you out again,” Cas says teasingly.

“Excuse you, I put up a fight and I was clearly winning,” Dean protests.

Cas just grins and lets Dean stuff his mouth with more pie before walking to the door. He expects Hannah to come to take her cake.

When he opens the door, Cas’ smile vanishes and color drains from his face.

“Michael?”

Green eyes crinkle in a warm smile. The next thing Cas knows is his body being pulled into a familiar embrace. Cas can smell blueberry muffin mixed with a faint scent of medicine. Michael’s chest is broad and warm against his lithe body, and he can’t help but tear up to finally be able to see him after three years.

Michael puts his hands on Cas’ shoulder, his lips smiling but with sadness hanging in his eyes. He observes Cas and breathes, “Castiel.”

Cas never knows how much he misses his brother. At first he’s shocked, but now slowly his nerves tingle with anger bubbling beneath his skin. He takes a deep breath to try to calm himself, and stares back at Michael with cold eyes.

“Michael. It’s been a long time,” Cas greets stiffly with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Michael blinks, and immediately his head hangs low. The air around them changes, becoming tenser and more suffocating. Cas tries to breathe through it, even though it seems to be getting harder.

The smile never leaves his face.

“Yeah,” Michael starts, “Yeah, it has.”

“Three years,” Cas supplies. “It’s been three years since we met. I didn’t think you would show up.”

Michael looks more nervous. His eyes flicker to somewhere else in the room before back to Cas’ eyes. Cas stubbornly avoids his piercing gaze. “I’m so sorry,” Michael finally says exasperatedly.

Cas smiles. “For what?”

“For…” Michael sighs, looking lost, “For not being the brother you need.”

“What do you mean? You’ve been kind. The medicines you sent me; if it wasn’t for them I would’ve been dead,” Cas replies lightly.

Michael frowns. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? Isn’t it the truth?” Cas asks.

Michael looks at him like he’s killed the last flicker of hope in his heart, and Cas averts his gaze with quivering lips.

Michael sounds broken when he says, “Castiel, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” Cas cuts him off. “Just, don’t, okay?”

Michael takes a step closer to touch him, but Cas flinches and causes him to retract his hand. Cas’ smile finally disappears, and all he wants is to run away and never be seen.

“I know I’m not a great brother, okay? I know I’m not always there when you need me—”

“Not always there when I need you?” Cas laughs bitterly. “You were _never_ there for me, Michael! For three years, three fucking years, you ignored me. We never met—hell, we never even _talked_!”

Michael looks defeated. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“You should be,” Cas says coldly, “I mean, what kind of a brother are you? You think I can be happy with the free medicines and the fact that I’ll live another day only to see that my brother isn’t even there? You have no fucking idea, haven’t you, that I’ve looked at all the pills you gave me, thinking of downing them all at once just to see if you care?”

Michael looks at him with hands trembling and fingers curled into a fist.

“I hated myself so much at first, you know, for making you hate me. Do you remember the letters I sent you? The calls, the messages, the emails? All the effort I did to talk to you and you ignored? I bet you don’t,” Cas laughs dryly.

“I do,” Michael cuts him. “And trust me, I read them all.”

“But you didn’t write back,” Cas replies shakily. “And after three years of your absence, after I can finally live with the fact that you’re not here and never gonna be; you come back. You come running in the last seconds like some sort of a fucking hero and I just—it won’t erase the fact that you weren’t here for three years. And I can’t.

“I wish you can feel what I felt. I wish you know how it is to be so tired after simply walking. I wish you know how your chest hurts so much you’re practically gasping for air. I wish you know how it feels to drown in your own body. I wish you know how it feels to sleep with pills in your mouth and wake up to the taste of it. And I wish,” Cas’ voice breaks, “I wish you know how it feels to go through all that alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael says quietly.

“Michael, you,” Cas whispers, unbelieving, “You, when you left the house with Gabriel shouting of how cowardice you were, when I had to choke back tears to hear you saying you didn’t want any part of this, of _me_ —you destroyed every little piece of me you were trying to build before.”

“So don’t you dare just come in knocking like you’re even part of this,” Cas ends, his body full on trembling now.

“I’m sorry,” Michael whispers one last time as he pulls Cas against him. He expects a punch or a shove, but Cas goes limp in his embrace, and he lets his tears wet Michael’s shirt.

It’s getting hard for Cas to breathe, but he forces out, “But I can’t hate you, Michael. I can’t.”

Michael holds him there, his chin resting on top of Cas’ head, his hands tight around his little brother’s body as if he wants to shield him from the rest of the world.

“I really miss you,” Cas says with muffled voice.

“I know,” Michael says to him, “I miss you too. Really fucking miss you.”

Michael stands there with his crying brother in his arms, not moving a slightest bit. He lets Castiel cries. He lets him spill every hurt, every bitterness bottled up after the three years of Michael abandoning him. He knows he deserves it.

When Cas finally lifts his face, Michael uses his hands to wipe the tears off his eyes just like he used to do years ago. Cas instinctively leans into the touch. Michael feels a lump in his throat, making him unable to say a word. Apparently, he doesn’t have to.

Cas looks up to his brother, and with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, he finally smiles genuinely.

Michael remembers the last day Cas shows him that, a day before he left.

“Welcome home, Michael.”

* * *

 

Dean hears distressed voices from the front door, and he goes there in curiosity. He’s alerted when he hears a distinctive sound of Cas’ cries.

“Cas, what—”

He stops dead in his track when he sees the one with his hands on Cas. Michael Novak is the last person he wants to see right now. Fate seems to like messing with Dean as Michael chooses this moment to look up.

Two pairs of green eyes lock and there’s silence. The calm before the storm.

Michael steps closer to Dean. Dean stands in his place, ready to take whatever Michael is going to throw him. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Cas turns around and gasps in horror.

“What are you doing here?” Michael _shouts_.

Dean winces. Michael is known to be calm and almost emotionless. In fact, Cas once told him that he had only heard Michael shout two times before; when he had a big fight with their father which led to him leaving and when Cas locked himself in his room and cried himself to sleep for a week after Dean left him.

Michael has his fingers curled into a fist. He’s trembling in anger. He doesn’t waste another second before swinging a punch to Dean’s face.

Dean ducks before Michael’s fist hits his nose. Michael swings his left hand, aiming at the side of Dean’s face. Dean uses his forearm to refrain from any injuries, but he still feels pain when Michael’s fist connects with his skin. The sheer force sends Dean backwards.

Michael is throwing punches over punches, and Dean has no other option than to start fighting back. One time he slows down and Michael swings a powerful right hook, but Dean manages to shun from it. The swishing wind tells Dean that it almost hits his right eye, and it alerts him of how serious Michael is.

Without Dean realizing, Cas has already snapped from his shock and carefully steps next to the two and grabs the nearest arm. “Both of you, stop!” he yells.

In the middle of the fight, Dean manages to stop before he can hurt Cas. Michael also stops, but the sudden stillness makes Michael’s hand unintentionally shove Cas and send him to the ground.

“Cas!”

“Castiel!”

Dean immediately crouches down to check on Cas with Michael following his lead. Cas is sitting on the floor with a hand on his chest, and that worries Dean even more.

Michael touches Cas’ shoulder gently. “Castiel, are you okay?” he asks.

When Cas doesn’t answer, the silence reveals something wrong in him.

Dean is about to say something, but Michael stops him. They both then keep quiet. That’s when they realize that Cas is wheezing. He’s clutching at his chest with eyes shut and pained expression in his face.

Cas can hear Michael saying something, but his voice sounds so far away and he has trouble focusing on anything except for his pain. The pain blooms in his chest, constricting and burning. Beneath his palm, he can feel his heart beats fast—too fast. He can’t breathe no matter how much he gasps for air.

He tries to say something, to ask for help, but when he opens his mouth, he immediately begins coughing. This only worsens the pain. His body is shaking, and he feels like drowning.

Dean watches his boyfriend start coughing frothy sputum that is tinged pink with blood. He just sits there, shocked still, until Michael snaps him by shaking his shoulder.

“Call 911 now!” he shouts at him. Dean stands frantically to get his phone. He’s already dialing 911 when he’s back in the room.

Michael snatches his phone and orders, “Keep an eye on him.”

Dean doesn’t waste a second before replacing where Michael was sitting seconds ago, keeping his eyes solely on Cas. He wants to help his lover from hurting, but he knows nothing about his condition and the last thing he needs is making Cas worse. So Dean has to settle with staying still and watching Cas helplessly.

As soon as the 911 operator speaks, Dean hears Michael report Cas’ condition. He remembers Cas saying that his brother is a doctor now.

“I need an ambulance at 425 Westview Drive, Pontiac, Illinois. Castiel Novak automated medical file number 814669, possible sudden pulmonary edema. Hurry,” Michael quickly says to the operator.

Dean’s focus is back on Cas. It pains him to see Cas hurt. Michael is on Cas’ side in no time, and Dean is grateful that he seems to be able to put their differences aside to focus on Cas this time.

Michael tries not to crowd against Cas too much. “Castiel,” he tells his brother in a gentle but firm voice, “Listen to me. Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths. Don’t panic. You’re gonna be fine.”

Relief washes over Dean and Michael when Cas seems to be able to calm a little and do as Michael told. He takes deep breaths with only a small part of it is able to supply the oxygen his fluid-filled lungs need. Michael is still assuring him and guiding him, keeping him at bay, and Dean is holding him to get him through this.

Dread washes over Dean by each passing second. He wants to run away in cowardice from seeing Cas looking so hurt. The only thing keeping him to stay is the strings of _gotta be strong for Cas, gotta be strong for Cas_ in his mind.

Siren blears in the distance, and Dean almost sags in relief. Michael opens the door and paramedics come in. They work efficiently, heaving Cas up to stretcher and taking him to the ambulance. Michael comes with the medics in the ambulance.

Everything happens so fast and Dean is momentarily stunned. His eyes land on Cas, lying unconscious while paramedics are putting on an oxygen mask on his face, dead to the commotion around him. The doors close, and it sets something within Dean.

_Cas is in there. Cas is leaving._

Dean watches in silence as the ambulance takes the love of his life away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least Dean and Michael share one similarity; Cas' condition kills them both equally.

When he realizes the situation, Dean immediately finds the key of the house and locks it before following the ambulance with his Impala.

The loud siren from the ambulance rings in Dean’s head as he drives. He knows he’s driving past the speed limit, but he hopes there are no police around. He needs to catch up with the ambulance. He needs to know how Cas is doing.

Dean needs to know that Cas is going to make it.

By some sheer luck, Dean encounters no problem on the road. Some people honk at him, but he’s past caring at this stage.

The ambulance skids to a halt in front of the hospital’s door. Dean can breathe in relief when he sees Cas being ushered by the medics, looking unconscious but alive. Michael is following them.

Dean finds a parking spot and storms through the door. He immediately goes to the receptionist, near-slamming the marble counter, and breathlessly asks, “Where’s Castiel Novak? He was just admitted here.”

“He’s in the ER. It’s the second door to the left,” the lady answers.

“Thanks,” Dean says again before rushing to the ER. He tries not to run despite his feet itching to be at Cas’ side as soon as possible.

Along the way, Dean thinks of how surreal this whole situation is. He knows that Cas is sick and dying, but he never truly thinks about it until this very moment. For Dean, heart disease or not, Cas is still the Cas he knew all those years ago. He doesn’t look different, so Dean doesn’t think of him differently. Truthfully, even if Dean keeps in mind that Cas is terribly ill, he still can’t comprehend how much the illness affects Cas. Even with defective heart or faulty lungs, he’s still just Cas.

Near the ER, Michael sits on the waiting seats alone. His brows are pulled into a frown, and stress is visible in his tired face. He’s talking in hushed voice to his phone, and Dean can see the tenseness in his shoulders, like he’s trying hard to compose himself.

Dean sits in the farthest chair. The last thing he wants is Michael getting furious at him all over again and creating a ruckus in the hospital. The oldest Novak doesn’t seem the type to do that, but Dean doesn’t want to push his luck.

“Yeah, no, I don’t know—I’m only a general practitioner, I haven’t got my cardiology diploma; I haven’t even finished my master degree, how should I know?” Dean hears Michael hissed at the person he’s talking to. “No, Luce—no, okay, just come to the hospital. OSF Saint James Medical Center, 2500 West Reynolds Street. Call Gabriel, I haven’t contacted him. Yeah, bring Raphael too, I don’t care. I don’t think Castiel is going to be awake to notice anyway.”

The bitterness in Michael’s voice makes Dean clench his fist tightly until his knuckles turn white and his nails leave indents in his skin, but the temporary pain helps him calm his mind.

He hears Michael tiredly sigh. He turns to see him slumped on his seat, his face buried in his palms. Dean knows that feeling. He’s exhausted and he just wants to go home and sleep, and maybe when he wakes up this all is just a bad dream.

There’s nothing Dean can do now. In his restlessness, Dean fishes out his phone to send a text to Sam.

_cas in er rn. hes rly sick. i dunno if hes gon be ok. michael is here. got into a fight w/ him back home b4 cas relapsed. just hoping cas will b ok_

Judging by the time, Sam is probably having lunch with Jess and won’t be replying him until he’s done.

Dean glances at Michael again. He just looks tired with his sunken eyes. They dart toward the closed ER door every ten second before falling to look at the floor again.

“Hey,” Dean calls out. He’s mildly surprised by his bravery—or stupidity.

Michael doesn’t even spare him a glance when he replies, “My brother is dying in there. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Dean rises from his seat to stand in front of Michael. With a frustrated sigh, Michael stands up too so their heights are in par. His green eyes have the same soul-staring intensity Cas’ gaze has. Dean figures Cas inherits that trait from his brother.

“I need to explain something to you,” Dean says.

Even with stress looming over him, Michael can still stand unyielding and intimidating in front of him. “It isn’t necessary for me to listen to you,” he replies sternly.

“But I do. I _have_ to explain to you,” Dean insists, and he challenges Michael’s cold look with fire in his eyes.

Both men keep staring at each other intensely until Michael gives in. “Do what you want. But don’t expect me to forgive you,” he replies.

“Good enough for me.” Dean breathes in relief, but he immediately tenses again. He knows whatever he says will never justify what he did to Cas six years ago, nor will it make Michael forgive him. But Dean needs to tell Michael what he has in mind.

“Okay. So, six years ago,” Dean starts. With a deep breath, he wills himself to continue until the end and do what he should’ve done years ago if he weren’t such a coward. “Six years ago, I cheated on Cas. I was drunk out of my mind after my buddies took me drinking, and I slept with the first chick I laid my eyes on. Turns out she was Cas’ best friend.”

“I know. Castiel knows too. Imagine how he felt when he found out two of the closest people he knows stabbed him behind his back,” Michael comments flatly.

Dean tries to be unfazed. He continues. “Then I left on Cas’ graduation day. I didn’t tell him anything. I didn’t even look back.”

“I know. I remember Castiel being so confused and sad and scared. He kept coming to your apartment and auto shop to look for you. He locked himself in his room and cried himself to sleep for a week when he realized you were gone for good. I was afraid he would turn suicidal, just because of a lowly scumbag who betrayed him and left like a coward he is,” Michael says again.

“I know I’m a coward. For six years, I ignored his every call, every text. I tried to forget about Cas. I was devastated that he just wouldn’t give up on me. But actually, I’m happy for that. That means he still … he still loved me after I destroyed him like that,” Dean says.

Michael seems ready to snap for a moment, but then he composes himself and goes back to his calm and collected state. “What is your purpose of telling me all these? Are you trying to mock me? Because don’t even think for a second that I wouldn’t beat the shit out of you,” he calmly warns, his words venomous.

When Michael curses, Dean knows he’s being serious. But he knows what he’s doing, and he has to finish whatever happens. “My point is I was a jerk. Like you said, I was a lowly scumbag who didn’t deserve Cas at all. Nothing I say or do will ever justify what I’ve done to Cas. You have every right to be angry at me. I won’t blame you if you punch me right here, right now.”

Dean stops to catch his breath, and Michael waits.

“But I love Cas. I’ve never loved anyone else. I made a mistake I can never erase. Yes, I cheated on him and left him, I admit. I was an idiot, a douchebag, a—Christ, no word can describe how horrible I treated my own boyfriend who loved me more than anything. And if I can, I would do anything to stop that from happening.

“But I can’t. I made an unforgivable mistake in the past, and I spent every day regretting that, believe me, but I can’t change it. And it’s okay if you or Cas can’t forgive me. I can’t even forgive myself. But I’m sorry. I really am. And yes, I’m a coward for waiting ‘til the friggin’ apocalypse to apologize. But all I want now is to be with Cas. I can’t change the past, so I won’t. I want to focus on the present. Even if our _now_ is nearing the end of the world with one dying with heart disease. Because in the end, we’re together, and I can’t be happier than that. And I want Cas to feel the same. I want our memories together to be able to cover the flaw in our past. Even if we don’t have a future, but at least I want Cas, and myself too, to be able to leave this world knowing that in the end we’ll always come back to each other, and that we love each other.”

Dean is out of breath by the time he’s finished. He isn’t a man of words. He knows he can’t convey everything he feels with his words. He just hopes Michael gets what he’s trying to say.

“You’re right. Whatever you say, it doesn’t justify what you’ve done to Castiel, and I will never forgive you for that,” Michael says. He raises his hand, and Dean prepares himself for a punch.

When the pain he’s been expecting never comes, Dean looks at Michael questioningly. He’s then taken aback when Michael brings him into a hug. The shorter man pats his back before adding, “But you’re also right about the present. I’ve always known that Castiel is happiest when he is with you. I’m giving you another chance, and I know you’ll know better than to waste it for the second time, Dean.”

The dread in his chest dissolves into relief and joy, and Dean returns the hug. “Never,” he promises with a smile.

Michael pulls away first. He puts one hand on Dean’s shoulder, and with all seriousness says, “If you make him cry again, just remember that I’m a doctor and I’ve learned human anatomy, including where to stab them if I want to torture them slowly and painfully.”

Dean laughs nervously. “I wouldn’t even dream about it,” he says, and at that Michael actually smiles genuinely.

Both men sit down again, but now side by side. Dean raps his fingers on his knees before turning his head to look at Michael.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asks.

“Yes.”

“So, Cas’ disease…”

“Congestive Heart Failure.”

“Yeah, that. Can you tell me about it? Cas already explained to me, but, y’know.”

“Of course.” Michael contemplates for a moment before he lets out a long, deep sigh. He looks tired again, and he looks visibly older. “Congestive Heart Failure is a condition where the heart is unable to pump enough oxygen-rich blood to the body. Blood and other fluids back up inside the lungs, abdomen, liver, and lower body. This is what happened to Castiel. Fluid filled his lungs and the condition is acute. That’s what we call pulmonary edema.”

Dean worries his lower lip. “So he can’t breathe because his lungs are, uh, flooded like that?”

“Yes. To put it simply, Castiel is drowning in his own body,” Michael says, and something within Dean breaks. Michael’s green eyes stare at a stain on the wall before softly sighing. “And that’s the most ruthless of all pain.”

The silence is deafening, and Dean doesn’t like it one bit. Michael doesn’t seem to mind, however, as he doesn’t try to invoke further conversation. For now, Dean is beyond grateful that he’s given a second chance by him.

Twenty minutes of more waiting in tense silence leaves Dean restless. He eventually decides to take a walk. Michael only spares him a glance before he goes back to staring absentmindedly at his clasped hands.

Dean’s feet lead him to the hospital’s park. There aren’t a lot of people. He only spots an elderly woman wheeled by her nurse and a pregnant woman with her husband sitting on a bench.

The air in the park is surely refreshing. Here, he can’t smell the distinctive smell of disinfectant looming over hospital’s halls—Dean remembers it to be something called iodoform? There’s only fresh air and the chilling autumn breeze. Dean lets his mind wander, trying to momentarily forget the fact that Cas is fighting his life on the other room.

Dean lets his breath waft in the air. He didn’t get the chance to grab a jacket or coat earlier in his haste on catching up with Cas. Now he feels cold prickling at his skin. The people in the park have also started to come inside to escape the cold.

Standing near the entrance is an instant coffee machine. Dean figures he’s going to face a long night. Caffeine wouldn’t hurt. He makes two, one for himself and one for Michael. He realizes he doesn’t know what kind of coffee Michael prefers, so he just makes the same for him; black, no sugar.

When Dean is back in the waiting room, the doctors still haven’t come out and Michael is now typing in his phone.

“Coffee,” Dean offers the steaming cup.

Michael looks up with a frown. His expression eases when he sees the coffee. “Thank you,” he says with a faint smile.

Both men take a sip of their coffee. Dean is first to finish his cup. He throws it into a trash bin and makes his way to get another cup. Michael has already gone back to his phone, his coffee half drunk on his side.

Time passes with Cas still in the ER. Even Michael has gone restless. He’s constantly tapping his foot against the floor. Frankly, the rhythmic thumping sound puts Dean in ease for some reason.

Their silence is disrupted when Michael suddenly stands up. Dean follows his line of vision to see two figures walking fast toward their direction. He later realizes that those figures are Lucifer Novak and Raphael Novak.

“I came as soon as I can. Is he okay?” Lucifer asks hurriedly, a bead of sweat running down from his temple.

“He’s still in the ER,” Michael answers.

“Is he going to be okay?” Lucifer asks again.

Michael looks hesitant when he answers, “I don’t know.”

Desperation is thick, and Dean doesn’t even dare to move a single muscle. Michael goes to sit again, his brothers following behind.

Dean can almost pinpoint the exact second where all air leaves the hall. Lucifer is staring at him, eyes blown wide, body rigid with shock and anger.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lucifer hisses menacingly. Dean guesses he only does that because he isn’t allowed to yell and create ruckus in the hospital. If he were allowed, Dean is sure his reaction would be similar to Michael’s.

Surprisingly, before Dean can say anything, Michael says, “You don’t have to, Luce. I’ve got it.”

Lucifer looks at Michael in disbelief, but the older Novak simply shakes his head. Lucifer sighs and gives up. However, he still looks at Dean with hatred in his eyes as he says, “Remember, you fucking hurt Castiel again and Michael will skin you alive while I pour salt and lime juice all over your wound.”

Dean knows Lucifer isn’t messing around. That’s why he also tries his best to convey his determination on not letting Cas down the second time when he says, “Yeah, I get it. I promise I won’t make the same mistake.”

Lucifer eyes him with a stern look in his face. Dean is somehow reminded of the stare of a deadly snake. Eventually, Lucifer deems his words passable when he nods and goes to sit next to Michael.

Raphael, who has been quietly standing behind his older brothers, speaks up for the first time. “What he said.”

“You have my word,” Dean replies.

Just like Lucifer, Raphael nods his approval and sits beside his brothers.

Soon, Dean realizes how awkward things have been. He decides to escape by getting more coffee. When he downs the cup, he suddenly craves beer. Everything happens too fast and it’s all so stressful and frustrating. _Cas would’ve handled this better_ , Dean bitterly thinks.

Dean only truly weighs the effects of Cas’ disease now. He thinks of what Michael told him. He said some medical terms he didn’t understand, but Dean knows for a fact that Cas’ heart is really sick and it’s affected other organs in his body, especially his lungs.

For Cas to drown in his own body is the most ruthless of all pain, Michael has said.

There are little things that Dean starts to notice now. Cas has gotten tired easily lately. There’s a swell in his feet, possibly from the fluid Michael told him is accumulating in his organs. Of course he didn’t think of it as something important at the time. He barely even knew Cas’ disease. Then all of the sudden, he’s faced with the reality that Cas’ heart is failing and his lungs are flooding and his own body is _killing_ him.

“Penny for a thought?” someone asks, and Dean jerks in surprise. He sees the owner of the voice, a beautiful nurse with dark hair with a bob cut.

“Oh, uh,” Dean fumbles over his inner battle of whether or not he should share his story to a stranger, “It’s my boyfriend.”

The nurse smiles and waits for Dean to continue.

“He’s … he’s really sick,” Dean starts. He notes how he sounds defeated. “Got this heart disease and all. Congestive Heart Failure. He’s been fighting it for … what, I guess three years now? Then all of the sudden he gets pulmonary edema and he’s fighting for his life in the ER right now.”

“That must be hard,” the nurse kindly offers.

“No shit,” Dean mutters.

She doesn’t look offended. Instead, she offers a kind smile and pats his shoulder. “I can’t offer any advice other than to don’t give up hope. I’ve been a nurse for five years, and believe me, I’ve seen more miracles than churches claim to see. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and we can’t do nothing but cry and get mad. Life is unfair that way. But I believe that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel,” she says.

Surprisingly, Dean is comforted by her words. “Thanks. Really helps,” Dean replies with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“My pleasure,” the nurse smiles again and extends her hand, “Tessa, by the way.”

“Dean.” Dean shakes her hand.

“It’s very cruel, don’t you think? That there are people having to spend their last time on Earth by sitting in a hospital,” Tessa says thoughtfully.

Reality once again strikes Dean hard. After days of peace and happiness with Cas by his side, he’s almost forgotten about the apocalypse. To be honest, the world doesn’t seem like ending. Things are going well, and people are behaving normal. There are some desperately trying to survive by building underground shelters and hoarding lots of things to survive, but Dean feels that would be pointless now.

“I’m sorry for saying that, I know it’s a sensitive subject. That was very inconsiderate of me,” Tessa apologizes when she realizes what she has just said.

“Nah, don’t sweat it. It hits right where it hurts, but that doesn’t make it any less true,” Dean says to her.

Tessa still looks rather guilty, but Dean shrugs her off. She’s about to apologize one more time when another nurse taps her shoulder and whispers something to her. She nods and turns to Dean.

“Well, Dean, it certainly is nice to have a chat with you, but I think I have to go. Duty calls,” Tessa tells him.

“Oh, that’s fine. Good luck with whatever you’re working,” Dean replies.

Tessa smiles again. “Thank you. And I hope your boyfriend is doing great.”

Dean smiles too when he says, “Yeah, thanks.”

After he’s alone again, Dean considers staying where he is so he won’t have to face the Novak brothers. But then he thinks of how cowardly he is acting, and decides against his original intention.

In the hall, Michael is sitting with his forehead against his hand. Dean feels sorry for him; it must’ve been especially hard for him, to be able to finally meet his brother after three years only to have him taken away. Dean remembers the commotion in the house earlier, and he guesses it must be from them fighting about his absence.

Raphael is quiet on his phone. He has a deep frown etched on his face as he reads something on the screen. The only one not sitting is Lucifer. The blond is pacing back and forth restlessly.

“Coffee?” Dean offers to Lucifer.

Lucifer looks at him and the cup of coffee in his hand. Dean is glad that he finally takes it. “Thanks,” Lucifer says, and he sounds genuine. Dean gives him a small smile and nods.

Dean offers the other cup to Raphael, but he answers, “No, thanks. I don’t drink coffee.”

Michael also rejects, so Dean drinks it. He sits beside Raphael. He checks on his watch, and realizes that it’s already two hours since Cas is wheeled in.

The waiting, the stress, and the exhaustion lull Dean. Before he realizes, he’s already dozing off.

Dean rouses from his light sleep when he feels the silence breaks. He opens his eyes and sees that the doctor handling Cas is out of the ER. The Novaks are already surrounding her, demanding news regarding their brother’s condition. Dean can only hear some of the doctor’s words.

“—to stay. He’s moved to the ICU now, and we’re going to monitor him. If you’d like to follow me,” the doctor explains.

The Novaks and Dean follow her to one room at a far corner. The doctor, Doctor Wang, tells them that they can’t enter at the moment, and explains that standard procedure requires them to wait after two hours before they can visit. She also explains that if Cas gets better, he can be moved to another room.

“For now, we’re putting him on a ventilator until he can breathe by himself again. He’s on complete sedation, and we can’t truly determine when he will be awake,” she explains, looking at Cas through the glass. She then turns to the group of people in front of him. “I would also like to talk more about his condition to his next of kin.”

Michael takes a long look at Cas before he goes with Doctor Wang. Dean watches him leave from the corner of his eyes. He has his focus on Cas. It hurts him to see Cas lying there with all kinds of tubes and machines around him trying to keep him alive.

“Hey, Lucifer and I will wait for Michael. You go home, get some rest. I’ll let you know when Castiel is awake,” Raphael says to Dean.

Dean is about to refuse, but he thinks better. He figures it’s best for him to head home now. He gives Raphael his number before leaving. Lucifer doesn’t talk to him, but he replies Dean’s wave of hand with a nod. Dean doesn’t see Michael on his way out, but doesn’t think too much of it.

In the Impala, Dean sits and thinks about the situation. He leans his forehead on Baby’s steering wheel and shuts his eyes. He finds it rather hard to breathe. The image of Cas on the floor hacking up blood doesn’t do him good. Dean feels like he wants to claw his eyes out. He’s frustrated and angry and confused and just so fucking _lost_.

“Breathe, okay, breathe,” he mumbles to himself. He counts to five in his mind and tries to calm himself. He can’t afford to have a panic attack here.

Hearing some Led Zeppelin helps. He focuses himself on the song, not the memory of Cas nearly dying. His breathing slows until normal again. When Dean is sure that he’s collected enough to drive safely, he starts his car and leaves the hospital.

* * *

 

There’s a Prius parked in front of Cas’ house when Dean comes home. He doesn’t know whose car it is. He parks his car in the garage and goes out to greet whoever Cas’ guest is.

“Oh, Gadreel,” Dean says in surprise.

“Dean,” Gadreel greets him and smiles. He’s with a woman Dean doesn’t recognize. As if sensing Dean’s confusion, he gestures to her, “This is Hannah.”

“Hi, I’m Hannah Johnson. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she introduces herself and offers a hand.

Dean shakes her hand and replies, “Dean Winchester. The feeling’s mutual.”

Hannah smiles at his words.

“So, Hannah’s here to take the cake Castiel made for her. Is he not here?” Gadreel asks.

“Let’s talk inside, yeah?” he asks, forcing a smile. If Gadreel and Hannah realize the change in his demeanor, they don’t call him out on it.

The inside of the house is dark, and the carpet is still dirty with Cas’ blood. Dean must have forgotten to clean it up in his rush. He knows Gadreel and Hannah must have realized it, but he’s grateful that they keep quiet about it. He directs them to the living room.

“Drinks? Anything?” Dean asks.

“I’m okay with anything,” Gadreel answers.

“What he said,” Hannah adds, giving Dean what seems to be an encouraging smile. Whatever it is, it manages to make Dean smile back at her.

In the end, Dean brings three glasses of infused water and the cake Hannah wants. Cas finished it already before he collapsed. Dean tries not to think about the last part.

“Here’s the cake and here’s your drink.” Dean puts down his tray. The cake is already put on a box.

“Thanks,” Hannah says. She takes her glass and drinks.

“So, what’s with Cas? Is he okay?” Gadreel asks, and Dean notices the worry in his voice. He hates to be the one to break bad news.

“Well, uh, he’s not,” Dean hesitates. He takes a deep breath and calms himself. “So Cas is in hospital. He relapsed. From what I know, his heart is getting worse and he has fluid in his lungs. Pulmonary edema, the doctor called it. He was in for a surgery a few hours ago.”

Hannah has her hand on her mouth. “Oh my god. I-is he okay?”

“He’s not dying anymore, but they’re keeping him in ICU to monitor him,” Dean replies.

“Then how is he?” Gadreel asks.

“He’s still unconscious, so I don’t know for sure. He won’t be awake any time near, too. They’re keeping him on a ventilator,” Dean explains, but that’s about the things he know.

“Oh, that’s just horrible. I can’t believe this happens to Castiel,” Hannah comments. She looks shaken by the news.

“Sorry, I have—I have to tell Balthazar about this,” Gadreel says. He walks out of the room. Dean can hear some sound that he assumes is Balthazar’s, but he can’t make out the words.

“Where is Castiel hospitalized?” Hannah asks.

“Oh, um, OSF Saint James Medical Center. Though I doubt you can really visit. He’s still not allowed any visitor until a few hours after the surgery,” Dean tells her.

Hannah tries to smile. “It’s okay. I’ll go tomorrow. I just want to make sure he’s doing okay.”

As soon as she says that, Gadreel comes back to the room. He looks more distressed. “I’m sorry, Dean, but I must go. Balthazar is panicked, and I’m worried that it’ll make matters worse,” he explains.

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry about it. You go take care of him. I have a lot to do anyway,” Dean replies.

“Thank you.” Gadreel flashes him a quick smile. “Come on, Hannah, I’ll take you home.”

Dean usher them to the front door, intent on ignoring the blood on the carpet when he passes it. The Prius drives off, and Dean closes the door.

The oncoming silence is drowning him.

* * *

 

Michael sits on Doctor Wang’s office, listening to her talk about Castiel’s condition. The more words she spills, the more disheartening the news she gives. Michael almost wants to ask her to stop.

If anyone asks him how he feels, Michael would say he feels surreal. He almost can’t believe that his brother is dying. For the last three years, he’s been avoiding Castiel because of this: the fear of watching him die slowly in front of him. He’s been doing great ignoring the fact that Castiel is a sick boy with a broken heart. Seeing him become what Michael fears the most of him is unbearable.

“I’m afraid he’s already at Stage D. Even if he gets better, he can’t be discharged. He has to stay in the hospital with help in his breathing. He has to take more medicine because his lungs are already in worse state than before. We can provide some exercises for his breathing if you’d like,” Doctor Wang explains.

“Can’t he just get a transplant?” Michael asks.

Doctor Wang shakes her head. “Unfortunately, there hasn’t been a compatible donor. We’re still trying to look for a heart his body will take, but demands are high and supplies can’t fulfill it,” she says.

“So Castiel is just gonna die?” Michael asks again, his voice now barely a whisper.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Novak, but this is what happens, and we can’t change that,” Doctor Wang sighs, like she’s seen this with countless people before. “But I can assure you that Mr. Castiel Novak is going to get the best treatment from us.”

Michael is silent, and Doctor Wang is waiting.

“Can you at least make … make it painless for him when it’s time?” Michael asks again, and this time he’s choking back tears. He’s trying so hard to contain himself, and even he is surprised that he hasn’t broken down right then and there.

Doctor Wang looks like she’s searching for the right word. She takes off her glasses and pinches her nose bridge. “Of course,” she says in a solemn tone. “We will do everything we can to make his transition comfortable.”

Michael nods numbly. He vaguely realizes that he’s still sitting in the doctor’s office, but Doctor Wang doesn’t seem to mind.

Finally Michael stands up and thanks Doctor Wang. She looks sympathetic, and she nods in understanding of Michael’s distress. “We’re doing our best for him,” she tries to assure him.

Even though she says that sincerely, Michael still can’t help but feel that she only does that to look professional. He’s a doctor too, and he knows how doctors handle their patients. He knows he’s being bitter. Michael gives her a resigned smile before stepping out of the room.

Lucifer and Raphael are already waiting outside. They look as tired as he is.

“What did she tell you?” Lucifer asks.

“I’ll tell you later where the place is appropriate,” he tells him. “Did you guys go home?”

Lucifer shakes his head. “We went here as soon as we arrived. Lilith went to our hotel first. I’m gonna meet her there later.”

“Are we not going to wait for Castiel?” Raphael frowns.

It’s hard for Michael to shake his head. “I … I don’t think he’s going to be awake today.”

After Michael says that, Lucifer and Raphael tense. They look at him expectantly, waiting for explanation.

“Let’s go home now. I’ll tell everything after dinner,” Michael says.

Lucifer seems to want to interject, but Raphael holds him and shakes his head. Michael sees this interaction and feels helpless all of the sudden. He wants to be a better brother. He wants Castiel to be here. But most of all, he just wants everything to be over.

* * *

 

Gabriel comes barging in right after Michael is done plating dinner. He’s panicked, frantically asking, “Sorry, I just got the message, busy day at work and my phone died! How’s Castiel?”

Deciding not to interfere with a family business, Dean waits in the dining room while waiting for the brothers to join him for dinner. He knows Michael is explaining the situation to Gabriel. He already did with Lucifer and Raphael, and even from far away Dean notices how hard it is for Michael to relive all the painful memories all over again.

Just as Dean expects, Gabriel doesn’t look too happy to see him. Unlike his brothers, however, he doesn’t show it by shouting in anger. He sneers and taunts him. Unfortunately for Dean, Gabriel knows the buttons to push.

“Oh, hi, Dean-o! Are you staying for dinner? Because apparently six years ago you didn’t,” Gabriel says with a smirk.

“Yeah, I’m staying, Gabriel, thanks,” Dean replies. He doesn’t want to look for trouble by replying Gabriel with another mockery even though he’s itching to do it.

Dinner is awkward. None of the Novak brothers or Dean speaks. The only sound audible is the clink of cutlery. Michael made fettuccine with mushroom alfredo. It’s Dean’s first time trying Michael’s cooking, and he has to admit it’s pretty good, even if the ingredients are from frozen food found in Cas’ freezer.

Dean is seated next to Michael. Lucifer, Raphael, and Gabriel sit on the opposite side of the table. The chair beside Michael is empty, and the five men keep quiet about it.

After dinner, Raphael offers to do the dishes. Lucifer goes to stay at a hotel with Lilith Adam, his girlfriend he met in Italy. Gabriel also goes to tidy up his store. He says he left in hurry that he didn’t get the chance to close it properly. Michael opts to unpack his belongings and put them in his old room.

“Did Castiel usually sleep with you?” Michael asks Dean suddenly, and the question catches him off guard.

“Uh, yeah. But I swear I didn’t do anything he didn’t want!” Dean hurriedly answers.

To his surprise, Michael doesn’t scold him. The corner of his mouth tugs into a barely-there smile. “Go, have some rest. It’s been a long day.”

“Oh, but, can’t I help or anything?”

“Raphael and I will get everything under control. Besides, I want to have some personal talk with him, and I would rather you not to hear it.”

“Oh, okay then.”

Dean is on the first step of the stairs when he turns around and calls out to Michael. The latter looks at him questioningly.

“Thanks, really. For giving me a chance, for everything. Means a lot to me,” Dean says, and he tries to make Michael understand how genuine he is.

“I’m only doing Castiel a favor. God knows how much I owe him,” Michael replies.

“He’s already forgiven you, y’know,” Dean says.

Michael smiles a little. “I know.”

Dean then continues to go the rest of the stairs. He figures Michael and Raphael will be staying downstairs in their own rooms, so Dean is the only one in the second floor.

The door closes behind Dean and he lets his eyes wander across Cas’ room. It’s the same room, but it feels bigger and colder. He half expects Cas to open the door and snakes his arm around his waist, whispering sweet words of how he loves him, and they’ll fall together in bed, staring at each other with smile etched to their lips.

Dean figures he has to stop hoping for things he can’t have.

Dean is sweaty and smells a bit like hospital, but he has no intention of taking a shower. Suddenly he’s very tired. He shucks his shoes and socks before throwing himself into the bed.

Sleeping would be great, except Dean can’t. He changed the sheets earlier, and now the pillows and the sheets don’t have Cas’ scent anymore. There isn’t any smell of mint from Cas’ shampoo or pastry from Cas’ clothes. He can only smell detergent.

Something catches Dean’s attention. On the night stand is Cas’ phone. Dean takes his own phone and absentmindedly presses the keys of Cas’ number.

“Hello, this is Castiel. I can’t seem to answer your phone. Please leave a message after the beep and I’ll call you back.”

Dean tightens his grip on his phone. He shuts his eyes tightly and tries to breathe. He doesn’t know he misses Cas this badly. It pains him to not be able to be with Cas this very moment. Right now, Cas is fighting for his life, and Dean tries to ignore the fact that it’s possible for him to see Cas tomorrow in a coffin. He just hopes it isn’t the case. He knows Cas’ death is inevitable, _but not now_.

“Hello, this is Castiel. I can’t seem—”

With tears prickling his eyes, Dean falls asleep to Cas’ voice as his lullaby.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hears Dean's voice and feels Dean's tears, and as his heart misses a beat, Cas thinks exhilaratingly, "It's time."

_“Oh, thank god you’re awake!”_

_Cas opens his eyes and immediately closes it again. His head is pounding, and everything is too loud, too bright._

_“Where am I?” When he talks, his voice is even hoarser that he already is._

_From half-lidded eyes, Cas notices a kind face with the most amazing green eyes staring at him. The boy smiles, seemingly relieved that Cas is awake and isn’t terribly injured._

_“You’re in the nurse office. The ball hit you pretty badly,” the green-eyed boy answers._

_Now everything starts to click. He doesn’t remember much; everything is like puzzle pieces. He remembers walking with a girl—was it Rachel? He remembers talking to her about a project he’s working on when someone shouted something intangible. Cas turned his head only to be greeted by a ball flying toward him, then everything turned black._

_“You threw the ball and it hit me,” Cas says slowly._

_“Yeah, sorry about that,” the green-eyed boy says sheepishly. “But hey, at least you’re doing okay now, right?”_

_Cas frowns. He definitely thinks otherwise. He feels awful and his face hurts. Luckily he can’t feel any broken bone. “As okay as being hit by a ball would be,” he mutters._

_“Hey, I already said I’m sorry, didn’t I? Besides, Ms. Jackie said you’re fine, just a slight concussion,” the boy says again._

_“You should try to feel how a slight concussion feels, then,” Cas replies rather defiantly. He isn’t usually this talkative, but the pain is playing something on him._

_“Sorry.” The boy looks truly sorry, so Cas lets him slide. “Anyway, I’m Dean Winchester.”_

_“Castiel Novak,” Cas replies. Now that he thinks about it, he’s known this boy. He hears about the new student who’s really cute and famous. Cas thinks the hype isn’t exaggerated once he sees this Dean Winchester with his own eyes._

_Nurse Jackie chooses the moment to waltz into the room. She immediately asks questions to Castiel, effectively shooing Dean out of the room._

_“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Cas,” Dean says with a smile before he leaves._

_Cas is rather dumbfounded by the nickname. Dean only knew him a few minutes ago, but he already tries to become familiar with him. It honestly flatters Cas a little. But maybe he’s just thinking it too much._

_One way or another, Cas is definitely waiting to see that green-eyed boy with beautiful smile again._

* * *

 

“Oh, thank god you’re awake!”

Cas cracks open his eyes, his lids fluttering to adjust to the brightness. His vision sways, and he knows better than to force himself to focus. He leans back to his pillow and sighs. Even if he hasn’t been here in a while doesn’t mean he doesn’t know where he is.

He closes his eyes and breathes. He can’t hear the hiss of a breathing machine, so he figures the doctor already lets him off ventilator. He turns his head slightly to the right before opening his eyes again.

“Dean?”

Green eyes and a relieved smile greet him, and it triggers a déjà vu within Cas.

Dean’s smile widens and he nods. “Hi, Cas.”

Cas can’t help but smile back. “Hello, Dean.”

“I’ll go call the doctor, yeah?” Dean asks as he stands up, ready to leave.

“No, not yet.” Cas tries to reach up for Dean, but even the slight movement tires him. His fingertips only graze Dean’s sleeve. “Stay, please.”

Dean looks back at him hesitantly, worry etched into every feature of his face. “Five minutes,” Cas offers with shaky voice. That seems to startle Dean, and he settles back to his seat, unsure of words.

Truth is, Cas doesn’t need words. He only needs Dean’s presence. He moves his fingers because that’s the only thing he’s currently capable of doing. Dean seems to get his intention, and gently puts his hands on Cas’. Dean is warm, like he always is. Cas feels safe with him.

Cas presses his eyes closed. His fingers grasp at Dean’s hand as he tries to breathe. There’s a heaviness there that’s unrelated to the fluid in his lungs. The doctors did a good job removing some of it anyway. It isn’t that. Cas is tired all of the sudden, and he feels cold.

Dean rubs soothing circle in his pale, skinny hand, and Cas calms. He instinctively seeks and clings to the safety that is Dean. And Dean doesn’t have to say a word. In his touch, there’s the unspoken _I’m with you, you’re going to be okay_.

And when Cas opens his eyes to look at Dean again, the weary smile he gives him is the unspoken _thank you, I love you_.

“Okay, you can go now,” Cas says softly.

“Oh, now you’re kicking me out?” Dean laughs as he stands up. His touch on Cas’ hand lingers like he doesn’t want to let go, but with a gentle smile, he leaves.

When a doctor enters his room with a steady smile and solemn voice, Cas holds on to Dean’s smile to get him through.

* * *

 

Dean feels a confusing mix between relief and dread rushing onto him when he waits in the ICU waiting room for Doctor Wang to come out. He’s only been in the ICU for fifteen minutes, and it’s Cas’ first time being awake. He heard from Michael, who was constantly watching him for the past week, that Cas was conscious a couple of days ago, but only for a short time and he was barely aware of his surroundings. He fell asleep again after that, but the doctor took off his ventilators, and he wasn’t in critical state anymore.

Somehow Dean remembers to call Michael. He doesn’t want to do that because he knows how stressed and tired Michael is, but he threatened Dean to call if anything happens or else. So, despite wanting keep this news for himself, at least until he can switch with another person to keep watching Cas, he reaches for his phone and calls Michael on speed dial.

“Hello?” Michael answers after the fourth ring. His voice is tired and hoarse, and Dean figures he was asleep when Dean called.

“Michael. Cas is awake,” Dean informs.

“He is?” Michael asks.

“Yeah. He was really awake, and he talked to me a bit. Doctor Wang is checking him right now,” Dean explains.

There’s rustling from the other line before Dean hears Michael’s voice again saying, “Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Whoa, dude,” Dean stops him right away. “You were just asleep, weren’t you? Get some rest. I’ll be here with Cas.”

“No, I have to see him,” Michael insists, and there’s a hint of warning in his tone.

Dean doesn’t budge. “Michael, look, you’re really tired and you need sleep. But Cas is too, and with both of us being here won’t do him any good. You gotta cut yourself some slack and let Cas rest, too. I’ll talk to Doctor Wang then I’m going home too. The nurse won’t let you stay anyway.”

Silence greets him, like Michael is considering his options. Finally there’s a sigh and Michael replies, “You’re right. I’m going to get a few hours sleep, and I’m expecting news after that.”

“Of course.” Dean smiles.

Michael thanks him before ending the call. Dean shoves his phone back into his pocket and waits for Doctor Wang. From the clock on the wall, it’s already pretty late for a visit. The nurses are probably going to shoo him away soon.

Somehow Dean has dozed off. He realizes this after someone taps his shoulder gently and he jerks awake, almost falling from his seat in the process. Doctor Wang smiles kindly at him and he smiles back, a little embarrassed.

“After this, you go home and get a good sleep, okay? The patient isn’t the only one needing rest, you know,” she says lightly. Spending a week in the hospital has made Doctor Wang warms up to Dean. She once scolded him for demanding update every time she was around, but they talked and got past the seemingly arrogant side of her, which she insists is her being “prideful”.

“You’re the doctor,” Dean replies.

Doctor Wang smiles again. “So, this is great news. Castiel is improving, and his breathing has been good since we took him off ventilator. Of course, we have to keep in mind that now he’s going to experience a lot of discomfort and he can get tired easily. We’ll monitor him again, and if he’s still doing great we can move him to a patient ward.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Dean smiles widely. He can’t wait to see all the tubes and machines off Cas’ body. The first days were hard for him, seeing tubes inserted to his nose and mouth, blowing air where his lungs couldn’t get by themselves, the ventilator making a steady clicking and hissing sound which Dean resisted himself from punching it every single time; cardiac monitors displaying Cas’ heart rate on the monitor, being the only thing telling Dean that Cas is still alive; the IV dripping clear liquid into Cas’ veins.

Now, seeing how Cas has improved from that condition to how he is now is brightens Dean’s night instantly. He’s glad to bring home good news. God knows the Novaks need it.

“Well, Castiel is resting now, and so should you,” Doctor Wang says, raising one eyebrow as a sign.

“Wait, can I say goodbye first?” Dean asks.

“Okay, but make it very quick,” she replies, and Dean grins.

Dean hovers at the door before stepping in. Cas has his eyes closed, but when Dean is standing beside his bed, he turns his head slightly and looks at him through half-lidded eyes.

Cas whispers a raspy, “Hello, Dean.”

“Hello to you too,” Dean replies with a smile. He gently strokes Cas’ hair. He notices it getting longer and duller, and he tries to not look at the strands which fall on his fingers.

The gesture elicits a contented sigh from Cas as he closes his eyes and instinctively tries to nuzzle closer to the touch. It doesn’t take long until Cas’ eyelids are drooping, the blueness of his eyes soon completely hidden. He breathes in steady heaves of chest. Cas looks calm, and Dean has to look at the electrocardiogram to make sure he’s only asleep.

Dean leaves with lingering touch of his fingertips and softly whispered, “I love you.”

* * *

 

The next time Cas opens his eyes is to a gentle weight on his hand. He turns his head and catches a dark-haired man with his head laid on the bed. He immediately realizes that it’s Michael.

He grips back at Michael’s fingers. It makes Michael stir, like he knows there is something touching his hand even though it’s weak and barely there.

“Did I wake you?” Cas asks, his voice deep from the sleep.

“It’s okay.” Michael rubs his eye and smiles. “I really want to see you awake.”

It’s rare to see Michael smile even back then, and Cas was sure he was starting to forget how it looked. Now that Cas sees it, he remembers why he always felt warm and safe with Michael.

“I’m sorry,” Cas says.

“Don’t be. Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. You’re going to get better; I’ll make sure of it. And you have nothing to be sorry for, okay?” Michael says firmly.

Cas almost wants to cry. Instead, he softly chuckles and says, “Can’t you drop the bossy attitude for a while, _assbutt_?”

Michael smiles at the joke Cas makes. It was what Cas used to call him when he was angry at him. Cas was only seven at the time. How time flies.

“Are you staying?” Cas asks.

“Do you want to?” Michael asks back.

“Will you stay if I make you watch Jurassic Park 2?” Cas snickers.

Michael rolls his eyes. “That’s disgusting.”

“Oh, harsh.”

“That’s not harsh. It’s just that Jurassic Park doesn’t deserve that garbage as a sequel,” Michael replies as he inches his chair closer to Cas’ bed. He smiles. “But yes, I’ll stay.”

“Michael,” Cas calls out, his fingers grasping at Michael’s hand a tad too desperately. A single tear rolls down his face, a stark contrast to the big smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

* * *

 

True to Doctor Wang’s words, Cas is now moved to a patient ward. Michael insists for him to use VIP room. Dean and the Novaks still take turn watching him. Now that Cas is in a ward, families are allowed to stay overnight.

Saturday morning is Dean’s turn to accompany Cas. Cas is reading a book while Dean is channel-surfing. He stops at a channel airing breaking news to drink. Cas lifts his face up from his book to watch the news.

“Hey, never thought you’d do that, I thought your face is buried in it,” Dean teases.

 “Chuckles, Winchester.” Cas looks at him, utterly unimpressed.

Dean laughs and turns his face to watch the news too. The beautiful newscaster is narrating of a riot caused by one of a church in Minnesota. Apparently they’re having a protest, claiming that the apocalypse is caused by human’s ignorance and sins which have angered God. Some idiots then decided to yell that God doesn’t exist, thus breaking a fight.

“Christ, even with apocalypse on their ass, people never change,” Dean comments. He looks at Cas, expecting a comment from him.

Cas tilts his head with his lips slightly pursed. “How long?” he asks, turning his face to Dean.

“Uh, what?”

“How many days are left until the apocalypse?” Cas asks again.

It strikes Dean speechless. He never pays much attention to the apocalypse anymore. Between Cas dying and him trying to fix his relationship with the Novaks, there’s no more room left for him to think about how the world is ending. He has accepted his demise anyway. He isn’t going to turn mad and try to build a bomb shelter to try to save himself.

 “Nine days,” Dean says, realizing that the countdown is quickly coming down to zero.

“Nine days, huh?” Cas mutters. “Nine days until humanity is put at rest.”

Dean can’t argue with that.

“Oh.” Dean hears Cas softly gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

Cas looks sad. He says, “I missed the dinner.”

Dean frowns in confusion, and he’s about to ask about what Cas meant when he remembers the prize they won from the chocolate raffle. They got a ticket for dinner for two at a restaurant, but Cas was unconscious on the due date.

“It’s just dinner. We can always have one,” Dean says to him, his hand coming up to stroke Cas’ hair. One thing Dean picks up is that whenever Cas is upset, gentle physical contact can help him calm. Like always, Cas leans into the touch, closing his eyes in contentment.

“I’ve always wanted to try it, you know,” Cas quietly tells. “Having dinner with you in a fancy restaurant with candles and music. It’s … one of my ideas of romance.”

Dean’s hand is still stroking Cas’ hair, and he uses the other one to hold Cas’ hand. He brings it and kisses the knuckles. Cas chuckles at the gesture.

“But, then again, seeing you like this is also my idea of romance,” Cas says.

“Is it true?” Dean hums, kissing Cas’ hand again.

“It is,” Cas answers. He lifts his hand from Dean’s hold and puts it on Dean’s cheek, caressing it gently, fingers brushing against the freckles in his skin he always wants to count. The next thing that comes up is a whispered, “All of you is my romance.”

* * *

 

Dean comes barging into the door. “What happened, I heard from Tessa—”

He sees his nightmare waiting for him, taking form of Gabriel and Balthazar next to each other, mischievous glinting in their eyes. Before he gets the chance to turn away and run, both men flank him down from both sides.

“Hey, that’s mean, Dean-o. We haven’t even said a word,” Gabriel says, grinning at him.

“Anything you’re planning to do is not going to be good, I know,” Dean replies, struggling to escape their grips.

“No, that won’t do,” Balthazar comments, clicking his tongue. “Gadreel, can you lock the door?”

“I’m not your maid,” Gadreel says, but he does what Balthazar asks of him anyway. He sits on the sofa provided in the room. Like always, Gadreel prefers to stay away from whatever Balthazar and Gabriel are planning, but he’s not going to do anything about it either.

“We just need to talk, that’s all,” Gabriel says again.

“Talk to my ass.”

“If your ass is capable of handling my intelligence, then yes, by all means, I’ll talk to it. But I don’t think so, seeing you run like being chased by a ghost the moment we bait you with our dear Castiel over here.”

Cas lifts his face from the book he’s reading. “Please don’t drag me into your problem,” he says before burying himself in the book again a second later.

“But you did support that, saying, and I quote, ‘Yes, I think Dean will fall for it. It would be hilarious, though,’” Balthazar snickers.

Dean glares at Cas. _Traitor_ , he mouths.

Cas only replies by grinning cheekily behind his oxygen mask.

Balthazar and Gabriel sit Dean down on the couch. They circle around him like investigators. Gadreel only pays them a glance before he fishes out his phone and starts tapping it.

“See, it’s nice like this, right? We can finally talk nicely, have a heart-to-heart,” Gabriel says. Dean only grumbles at that.

“Now, Dean, we only want to talk regarding you and dear little Cassie,” Balthazar joins in.

“We’re doing great without you guys interfering, thanks,” Dean answers.

Gabriel fakes a pout. “Really? That sucks. I was actually sincerely going to help. Maybe, you know, spice things up a little bit.”

“Unless you’re talking about making us food with spices, please don’t talk to me,” Dean replies.

“Come on, Dean. I know you and Cas are, well, mister vanilla. We’re just worried that you guys missed out on the decadence that makes life worth living,” Balthazar adds.

Gabriel claps his hand. “Couldn’t have said it better, bro.”

“So, Dean? Interested? I’ve got all kinds of things for you. After all, what kind of a brother am I to not spoil my brother and his boyfriend, eh?” Gabriel teases him again.

Dean groans, “Oh my god.”

“That’s what she said,” Gabriel says, winking, before he high-fives Balthazar. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Gabriel, Balthazar, please. My sex life isn’t your business,” Cas says flatly.

Dean grins smugly. “You fuckers listen to him.”

“Sex with Dean is very satisfying. His cock is big and it fills me completely. The friction when he moves is amazing and he leads me to a mind-blowing orgasm. So I doubt that we’ll need any of your help,” Cas adds over the simultaneous groans from the other people in the room.

“TMI, lil’ bro! TMI!” Gabriel protests, covering his ears.

“That is more information than I ever need. I’m going to go get some fresh air and clean my mind,” Balthazar says, his hands thrown up in surrender. He really does go out of the room.

As for Dean, he doesn’t really know how to react. He’s glad that Cas can shut the duo up, but to hear Cas talking about sex is really weird. Cas gives him a smirk before he continues reading his book again.

“Michael totally should hear it,” Gabriel laughs. “He’d be scarred for the rest of his life.”

“I should hear what?” Michael suddenly walks into the room with a frown on his face.

Gabriel snickers, “Oh, Cas just decided to share a beautiful little story to us. Come on, tell Michael.”

“I don’t find it necessary, though,” Cas replies.

“Okay, then I’ll do it.” Gabriel clears his throat and squints at Michael. The next time he speaks, it’s with a very low voice imitating Cas, “‘Dean’s cock is so big and it feels so good, he’s a killer in bed, I want to have his babies!’”

Castiel frowns, and protests, “I didn’t say that.”

“I’m just summarizing, dear brother,” Gabriel replies with a wide grin. Cas only shakes his head.

“Gabriel, don’t make stuff up,” Michael says to him, a hint of amusement barely noticeable in his voice.

“But I didn’t! Why can’t you believe me?” Gabriel protests.

“Because you always lie, so Michael knows better than to take your words, you know,” Cas helpfully adds.

“You got a point there, actually,” Gabriel says.

Michael clears his throat. “Well, anyway, I’m here to talk to Dean.”

Dean shoots his head up. “Me?”

“Yes. You,” Michael replies. He goes to Cas’ side and gently touches his shoulder. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, Michael,” Cas says with a reassuring smile.

“No chest pain, having trouble breathing?” Michael asks again.

“I think it’s natural to have those traits when you’re suffering a heart disease.”

Michael frowns. “Castiel…”

“Michael, if I ever feel anything like that, I will let you know immediately, I promise. Stop worrying too much, okay? It doesn’t suit you,” Castiel interjects, placing a reassuring hand over Michael’s.

“I’m keeping your words,” Michael says firmly.

Cas can’t help rolling his eyes. “Put me on a leash, will you?”

At last, a small smile is visible in Michael’s face. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll just watch you all the time.”

“Oh my god,” Cas groans.

“Just call me Michael,” Michael replies with an amused smile.

“Smartass,” Cas mutters.

“Runs in the family, doesn’t it?” Michael smiles and strokes Cas’ head. “Now if you don’t mind, I have some business with your boyfriend.”

Michael gestures for Dean to follow him.

“Be easy on him,” Cas calls out, his hands already picking up his abandoned book.

“I’ll try not to scare him too much.” Michael smiles and leaves the room, Dean trailing behind him.

Dean follows Michael to the hospital’s park. The sky is turning grey. It seems that it’s going to snow soon. This year’s first snow comes late, Dean remembers Cas saying those words quietly with his icy blue eyes staring out the windows.

The park is empty. Michael sits on one of the long bench near the water fountain.

“So what is it you wanna talk about?” Dean asks. “Is it about Cas?”

“Yes. I received an update about his condition from his doctor. I figure it’s best for you to know,” Michael starts. Dean listens tentatively.

“The doctors think that he won’t survive. There’s no compatible donor to him yet, and we shouldn’t hope too high. Despite his medications, Castiel’s condition will significantly drop. You’ll be able to see the signs. Today he may look fine, but it’s possible that tomorrow he will relapse.

“The doctors can’t predict precisely how his condition will turn out each day. But he’s going to be worse. Castiel is going to be weaker. He won’t be able to leave his bed, he can’t stay awake for too long, he will start having chest pain more frequently, and he will start losing the abilities he can normally do. He might not be able to speak for long anymore. He might drift off easily. He might start having trouble breathing.”

“So you’re saying Cas is really dying? Because I know about it. I know what will Cas face. I’ve done my readings like a good boy. I know, Michael,” Dean cuts him off.

“It’s not just it, Dean.” Michael looks at Dean long. He lets out a sigh. From the sunken eyes and the ever-visible frown, he looks tired and much older than he actually is. “All those things I mentioned earlier … Castiel knows that too. He knows that he’s losing himself. He doesn’t show it, but I know he’s getting restless, desperate. He feels helpless and lonely. During those hard times, I want you to be with him. Even by your mere presence, I think it would help calm Castiel.”

Honestly, Dean has never seen things in that perspective. He’s always seen himself as the victim of the whole situation, of how broken and tired he is because of the apocalypse and Cas’ illness; but he’s never really thought of how Cas must have felt. It strikes him that of course Cas knows more about his own condition than Dean, and of course Cas is even more terrified than he is. It’s his own body breaking down part by part, after all.

“Okay, okay,” Dean replies shakily. He takes a deep breath to collect himself. “Don’t worry, I-I promised him. I’m gonna be there. I owe him that much.”

Michael’s expression softens, the creases in his forehead smoothed out. “You know,” he starts, a tiny hint of hesitation before he continues, “The first time I met you again, back home, I was furious. I was ready to attack you. You’ve done bad things to Castiel, and I won’t ever forget that.”

“I know, and I will forever be sorry for that,” Dean mumbles.

“I know, Dean. But seeing the things you’ve done for Castiel, the way you changed him, I can tell that you love him. Yes, you’ve made a big mistake, but right now, I think … I think I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if that time I didn’t give you a second chance.”

Dean feels something within him stirs, and it’s a weird feeling. He feels guilt and relief rushing into him. It feels strangely like a closure.

“Thank you, really. For giving me a second chance. For trusting me with Cas. I know I didn’t deserve it, but thanks,” Dean blurts out, clasping Michael’s shoulder tightly.

Michael only nods and smiles, no exchange of words needed.

They only spend a few more seconds in that position before Michael clears his throat and Dean removes his hand awkwardly.

“So, I’m going to go. I have to meet some friends. Do you mind if you keep a watch on Castiel tonight?” Michael asks.

“No, it’s fine,” Dean quickly replies.

The corner of Michael’s lips quirks up into a small smile. Dean can sense the unspoken _Thank you_. Dean’s own smile is the unspoken _You’re welcome_.

When Dean and Michael enter Cas’ room, he’s currently talking to Gabriel. Balthazar and Gadreel are sitting on the sofa, watching the brothers’ interaction. Cas’ book is neatly tucked under his hand. He has his whole focus on Gabriel, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he laughs at whatever the blond is saying.

“Oh look. Baby brothers are back!” Gabriel says, extending his arms to welcome them into a hug.

Dean frowns. “I’m not your brother.”

“Sure you are! You’ve put your dick inside my brother’s ass while being all Titanic with him; I think it’s safe for me to call you my brother now, right?” he asks with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Gabriel!” Michael and Cas says at the same time, although with a different tone. Michael looks at Gabriel warningly, while Cas hisses the word out, his face slightly flushed in embarrassment. Dean realizes that Cas tends to get flustered easily whenever Michael is around.

“I have to go meet some friends. Are you okay with Dean being with you this night?” Michael asks to Castiel.

Cas looks up to him, fingers grasping at his rumpled blanket. Through oxygen mask, he smiles and nods. “Be safe,” he says softly.

Michael smiles and ruffles Cas’ hair. Shortly after he leaves the room, Gadreel and Balthazar excuse themselves, saying they have things to take care of.

“The virgins aren’t gonna deflower themselves, Dean-o,” Balthazar winks.

“You’re disgusting,” Dean deadpans.

They leave, bringing Gabriel along by his collar. Dean suspects that they do that on purpose, but being left alone with Cas? He has nothing to complain.

“I can never understand why you’re even friends with them.” Dean shakes his head.

Cas chuckles. “Well, they’re nice to me, I give them that,” he answers.

Dean smiles when he sees Cas smile. He sits on the chair next to Cas’ bed and takes Cas’ hand. He gives it a light squeeze. Cas’ smile softens and he intertwines their fingers. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to. They communicate through their silence. They stay like that until Cas falls asleep.

Their fingers stay laced together throughout the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Cas is alone in his room, watching a rerun of Spiderman when someone knocks on his room. He frowns; no one he knows ever knocks before entering his room, and it isn’t checkup time yet so it can’t be his doctor. The person knocks again, bringing Cas out of his reverie. “Come in,” Cas says.

Gabriel strolls in wearing a waiter clothes and a fake mustache. Cas’ frown deepens. He knows his brother tends to do weird things, but he doesn’t think he’d do it in a hospital.

“Gabriel, what—”

“Now, now, Castiel, no need for words. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show,” Gabriel says while arranging a table he brings, effectively shutting Castiel off and making him even more confused in the process.

A man dressed in the same white shirt and maroon vest Gabriel is wearing comes in with a tray in his hand. Gabriel takes it from him and places it on the table. He opens it and reveals a set of fancy dinner foods underneath. While he does so, another man, also dressed in the same set of clothes, comes in with a radio. Cas gets more confused, but the man seems unfazed. He puts the radio on Cas’ bedside table and inserts a tape. Cas is more than a little baffled by now.

“Gabriel, what—”

“Looking good, Winchester,” someone says. Bright red hair catches Cas’ attention.

In front of the door of his room, a redhead girl shows up with a big grin. Cas’ face lightens immediately. “Anna!” he almost cries out.

“Hey, Castiel.” There, in front of him, Anna Milton stands with all her glory. It’s been a while since Cas has met her, since she now lives in New York to pursue her dream as an artist, and it pleases him to finally see her again.

“It’s been months since I last saw you and now you’re doing the do with Dean Winchester again?” Anna asks amusedly with one eyebrow raised.

Cas rolls his eyes. “Nice to meet you too, sister.”

Anna laughs, her hair waving from the movement of her shoulder. “You haven’t changed,” she says, grinning, before walking to stand beside Cas. Tessa, one of Cas’ nurse, follows behind him.

“What is this?” Cas asks to both girls.

Tessa and Anna smile knowingly. “You’ll see,” they only answer that.

The girls help Cas to step out of his bed. They make him sit on a wheelchair. They wheel him to the table Gabriel is currently preparing. The more Cas looks at his brother, the weirder he gets.

“Enjoy your night, Cassie. Don’t forget protection,” Gabriel says with a wink before he steps out of the room. Tessa follows after she whispers good luck in Cas’ ear.

Cas is about to ask again in frustration when Anna taps his shoulder lightly. “Prince Charming is coming,” she says with a smile.

Cas opens his mouth to say something, but questions die on his tongue when he sees Dean walk into the room in a suit with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Cas stares at him in surprise. Dean runs a hand through his hair and smiles nervously at him.

“Ready for our date?” he asks.

Before he can say anything, Anna already says, “I expect for him to be in good hand?”

“Of course, Anna,” Dean answers.

“I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you do anything to him, you know,” Anna says again.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You wanna kill me? Get in the line.”

Anna breaks into a smile. “He’s all yours, Dean,” she says.

Anna leaves the room too, but not before she whispers words of encouragement and kisses his cheek. Now that the door swings close behind her, Dean and Cas are left alone in the room.

Finally Cas recovers from the simultaneous shock. He looks up at Dean. “Dean, what is all this?” he urges.

Dean smiles and kneels in front of Cas. He puts the bouquet in Cas’ hands. He looks up and stares at Cas, his green eyes radiating happiness and warmth. With a smile, he surges up and softly kisses Cas. The kiss is slow, chaste, making Cas’ fingers curl as warmth runs through his body. Dean is holding him by his neck and arm, and the spots touched by him feels like it’s on fire.

The kiss breaks when they both retract from each other. Dean rests his head on Cas’, foreheads touching, breaths shared. He places a hand on top of Cas’ hands and holds them.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing before my heart truly gives out?” Cas asks lightly.

Dean laughs. “It’s a date,” he whispers, pecking Cas’ lips once again.

“Why?” Cas asks again, sighing in pleasure as he closes his eyes and chases Dean’s lips again.

“We didn’t get to go to Casanova. I know you really want it. So, since I can’t bring you on a date, I thought I’ll bring the date to you,” Dean says.

Cas’ eyes widen in surprise. He opens his mouth, but he can’t think of anything to say. He isn’t an emotional person, but now he’s just overwhelmed. He can feel tears prickling his eyes.

“Hey, are you crying? Don’t cry!” Dean laughs.

Cas brings a hand to his mouth to cover the choked up laugh. He rests his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m not,” he says with a muffled laugh. Even when he says that, tears fall from his eyes.

Dean holds his face. He erases the tear track from Cas’ eyes and cheeks. “You like it?” he asks.

Cas laughs again. He touches Dean’s hand and holds it against his cheek. His smile is bright and blinding. “Like it? Dean, I love it. It’s everything I could’ve hoped for. _You’re_ everything I could’ve hoped for.”

“Cas, you sap,” Dean laughs. He stands up and kisses the top of Cas’ head, whispering, “Wait a sec. I’ll be back.”

Blue eyes follow Dean’s movement. He plays the radio, and the first song to play is _Hey Jude_.

“I remember you singing that song on our first date,” Cas tells Dean when he’s back to him.

“Oh, yeah, that, I remember too. I took you for the first time in the Impala to see a new movie that just came out, right?” Dean smiles at the memory. “It was also the first time we kissed. Remember?”

“Of course I do, Dean. It was the happiest day in my life, how could I forget that?” Cas replies.

The only answer Dean gives him is a wide smile on his face. He wheels him to the table before he sits across Cas. There’s chicken as the entrée and pie as a dessert. A bottle of wine is sitting on the middle of the table. Cas plucks one of the flowers and puts it in the vase. The rest of the bouquet is put on Cas’ bedside table.

After they’re seated, they just stare at each other without exchanging any words. Dean is smiling at him, and suddenly Cas feels embarrassed. He feels seventeen all over again.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date, I think I’ve forgotten how to,” Cas says, chuckling.

Dean is still smiling. He takes hold of Cas’ hand and rubs the back. “It’s okay. I’ll be with you through every step.”

The words manage to make Cas laugh. “Who’s the bigger sap here, honestly?” he teases.

“I wasn’t the one who wrote ‘Castiel Winchester’ at the back of my note, okay,” Dean teases back, and this manages to make Cas’ face flushed red.

“I was at high school! We all made stupid mistakes at high school!” Cas splutters.

Dean laughs and flicks Cas’ nose playfully. “Whatever floats your boat, Cas.”

With that, they talk. They talk about many things. There’s nothing such as running out of things to say. Most of the times, though, it’s Dean telling stories with Cas listening tentatively. One time, Dean reminds him of one of his embarrassing story, and Cas stops him by shoving a piece of chicken on his mouth.

The whole time, the thought of letting go of each other’s hands never crosses their minds.

When Dean has finished his meal, and the wine in his glass is already half drunk, he stands up from his seat to crouch in front of Cas. Cas twines their fingers together, and Dean doesn’t mind one bit. Dean surges forward and kisses Cas, still as chaste as sweet as the previous kiss.

Their lips part, but their bodies remain connected in a hug. Dean feels how skinny Cas is now and how fragile he seems to be in his embrace. It makes him want to shield him harder from whatever is coming at him.

“Can I tell you something?” Cas murmurs against Dean’s neck.

“Of course, Cas. Anything.”

Cas retracts from Dean’s hug and looks at his boyfriend with seriousness. His hold on Dean’s hand unconsciously tightens. He looks down and bites his lips, as if unsure to do what he’s thinking of doing, and takes a deep breath to strengthen his will.

“So, about that time two weeks ago, when you came to see me again after years of—of … well, I have to be honest now,” Cas hesitantly starts. Through eyelashes, he looks for any disapproval from Dean. Such thing doesn’t happen.

“That time, I was so angry at you. I _despised_ you. I thought of how low you are to come crawling back at me? I’m proven wrong, of course, but there’s more than that,” Cas says. “I was sad and angry. I thought of things I’m not proud of. But then evil whispers to my ear and it felt like I’ve lost all senses.”

“When I see you again, looking so desperate and lost, I thought…” Cas’ breath hitches and he has to stop before he cries again. His gaze at Dean is fierce, unwavering; full of emotions ready to be conveyed. “I thought that I should make you suffer like you did me. I wanted you to be as hopeless as I was. I wanted you to know how it feels to have the reason you wake up in the morning leave you just like that.

“So I figured I should let you in again so I can hurt you more. You know I have a heart disease, but you still chose to stay. You didn’t seem to realize the danger I’m in. It only got me even more furious. I finally made up my mind and decided to do what I’ve planned for quite some time.”

Cas stops to take a breath. Dean soothes him, whispering him sweet words of how he’s doing okay, and Dean will always be there to listen to whatever Cas has to say.

With his voice slightly wavering, Cas continues, “I planned to let you into my life again so I could crush you. I wanted to make you feel twenty again, like when you feel all warm and fuzzy inside when you saw your crush. I wanted you to love me again, so when I finally die, you can feel just the littlest inkling of how I felt when you left me.”

Cas can see Dean’s expression tighten, and he doesn’t want to continue. But he’s already said all that, so he decides to finish what he’s started.

“The things I did to you the first time; cooking, talking, watching TV together—it was because I was trying to make you love me again. I kept doing things I knew would make you fall. It was going great so far. I could see that you still had that feeling inside you. I could see the soul of a young man with eyes greener than Mother Nature leaping with joy of love. So, yes, things were going according to my sick, twisted plan.

“But days after days after days, I started doing things with you not because of that revenge, but because I actually enjoy being with you. Every day when I wake up, I have to remind myself harder that I’m not doing this for you; I’m doing this for myself. But…” Cas sighs softly, and Dean holds his hand tighter. “In the end, I’m the one falling in love after all.”

Cas bites his lips and holds back the tears. A trickle escapes the confinement of his fluttering eyelashes, but Dean’s fingers are there to softly erase them. Cas prepares for the moment Dean lash out on him.

Such thing never happens.

Instead, Dean holds Cas’ hands and kisses them. He’s smiling when he looks at Cas. “Oh, Cas,” he sighs in joy.

Cas almost wants to retract his hands from Dean’s hold. He doesn’t understand why Dean hasn’t yelled at him. He’s done such a horrible thing. Sure, Dean once betrayed him too, but Cas has always been the one preaching about hate breeds more hate. He has never wanted to be a hypocrite, yet he did. Nothing justifies his action for Dean.

“Aren’t you angry?” Cas asks.

Dean’s expression softens. “Why should I be angry with you?”

“Because I tricked you! I manipulated you into pitying me so you would want to be together with me again. I lied to you, saying I don’t want to make you go through all these pain even though my rotten, dying heart was yearning otherwise. I wished for you to hurt just like I hurt!” Cas exclaims, his expression scrunching into one of hatred and disgust.

“Actually I can understand why you did that. Honestly, I kinda expect _that_ to be your kind of revenge; smart, passive-aggressive kinda way,” Dean says.

“It was wrong and cruel, though.” Cas frowns. “What I did to you … Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t. Don’t be sorry, okay?” Dean cuts him almost immediately. He strokes Cas’ cheek, and Cas unconsciously leans into the touch.

“But I—”

“Shh, baby, it’s alright,” Dean whispers. His words ghosts over Cas’ skin. Cas’ words are cut off when Dean connects their lips together. Cas can feel his heart starts to beat faster and he clings to Dean’s shirt tighter, but Dean soothes him down.

Cas shuts his eyes close and brings his arms up to circle around Dean’s neck. He can feel Dean’s hands leaving his own to latch onto his neck, cupping his face. Cas grasps at Dean’s short hair desperately. Dean breaks the kiss before it gets too heated. He licks Cas’ lower lips before stealing another kiss. This time, he also stops before things go too far.

Cas pants again Dean’s neck. He can vaguely feel Dean’s pulse beating rhythmically against his skin. “So this is why they’re changing the mask to nasal prongs today,” he murmurs.

Dean plants a kiss on Cas’ forehead and rests his chin on top of his head. “I’ve missed the taste of your lips,” he murmurs back.

“I miss yours too,” Cas whispers back.

“I really love you, Cas. I love everything about you,” Dean speaks those words as easily as waves crashing against the shore. Cas feels Dean’s smile in his skin when he kisses his temple.

“I love your face.” Dean kisses his cheeks. “I love your lips.” Dean kisses his lips. “I love your eyes.” Dean kisses his eyelids. “I love your hand.” Dean kisses the knuckles in his hand. “I love your body.” Dean kisses his neck. “God, I love you so much, Cas.”

The laugh Cas emits is weak but genuine. He smiles as wide as he can. He cups Dean’s face and lets their foreheads touch. “I’m trying not to cry here, Dean. Please don’t make it harder.”

 “I’m not even doing anything!” Dean laughs and pulls his boyfriend into a hug.

“Dean,” Cas calls out in a barely audible whisper.

“Hmm?” Dean hums.

Cas’ hand finds Dean’s and he clings to it. Dean wraps an arm around Cas’ waist and brings their bodies closer against each other.

“I’m sorry for making you go through all this,” Cas says.

“Cas—”

“No, don’t, I’m not finished. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m also sorry that I let myself be hurt because of you. I’m sorry that we couldn’t be better. But I’m never sorry that I met you. I’m never sorry about what we have between us.” Cas looks up at Dean, and Dean sees constellations in his eyes and the ocean in his smile. “I’m never sorry for loving you.”

Dean smiles at that. He knows he’s treading a dangerous path, with death waiting in one side and heartbreak in the other. But like this, with Cas safe in his arms, Hell can go take a swing at him and see if Dean Winchester cares.

* * *

 

The funny thing about dying is that Dean knows when to expect that. Dying used to seem like a horrible, terrifying thing. Death could come anytime without anyone knowing. Now, though, God plays a different card on the table.

Now, dying seems just like any other words. To die is inevitable, and to accept is to let go. Dean doesn’t worry about it. He gets to spend a rather fulfilling life. Besides, dying by watching a large meteor destroy Earth is a pretty cool reason to go.

One of the few things Dean isn’t ready for is to _watch_ Cas die. He’s fine with feeling the pain of his skin melting and his body squashed from the impact created by the meteor. He’ll take that anytime rather than to watch Cas lets out his last breath.

In just a span of one week, Cas’ condition is declining rapidly. His state now fluctuates from unconscious and lucid. But even when he’s awake, he can’t communicate much. He’s become really weak, and now every conversation with him is one-sided. Some has given up and only spends their time with Cas by looking at him with sadness overwhelming their beings.

They don’t know that Cas notices. They don’t know that Cas is even more devastated by this than they are.

Dean is one of the stubborn ones. He talks to Cas all the time. He holds Cas’ hand as he talks about the first time they met. He brushes the hair from Cas’ forehead as he reminds Cas about their first dinner at the Novak household. He smiles and watches Cas breathes as he speaks about that time they first kissed in front of the whole school. He kisses Cas’ knuckles as he recites again and again of how in love he is with him.

Cas never answers, but he always listens.

One night, Dean enters Cas’ room with furrowed brows and gritted teeth. Cas’ eyes are dull, unseeing, but Dean knows he’s there. Cas is always there, even if he can’t show it.

The Novaks have already said their goodbyes. Cas couldn’t do anything but blink, but he cried. He looked like it pained him to not be able to hug his brothers. Dean watched him go through it, seeing the family broke at once. Something stung his eyes, but Dean held it in. _Not here, not now_.

Dean climbs onto Cas’ bed. Cas is so thin now that the bed can accommodate both of them. Dean holds Cas tight, his head resting on Dean’s chest.

“Hey, Cas. I can’t believe it. It’s finally time,” Dean starts with a light laugh. “It’s finally the apocalypse. Feels so weird, huh? Now that it’s coming, my mind is seriously messed up. I’m not one to think anyway, not like you, right?”

The silence is terrible and Dean tries not to drown in it. He kisses Cas’ temple, willing himself to be strong— _I gotta be strong for the both of us_.

“Cas, I know you’re scared. I know it must be scary to be trapped inside a body, not knowing what to do, not knowing of _knowing_. Honestly…” Dean sucks in a hard breath. “Honestly I’m scared too. You don’t get to know when to die every day, see.”

Dean now links their fingers together. Cas feels so cold. With trembling voice, Dean continues, “Don’t be afraid, Cas. Let’s be brave, okay? Let’s be brave and face whatever God throws at us. Let’s be brave for the sake of those who aren’t.”

Cas’ fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out to Dean. Dean feels hot tears running down his cheeks, but he doesn’t bother to erase it. He holds Cas’ hands tighter. “I know you’re still fighting in there, Cas. I know you’re still holding on. But now, it’s okay to let go. You … you’ve been so strong for so long. We’ll be okay, Cas. I’ll be okay.”

The electrocardiograph is making loud beeping noise, and Dean tries his best to block it out. He focuses on Cas. He holds Cas tighter than ever before. Cas cries again, tears falling from his blue eyes being the only thing indicating he’s still Cas.

“Cas—”

_It was summer when they shared their first kiss. The weather was hot, and they taste like apple pie and lemonade. There are no fireworks, there are no premonition of timeless love story; there is only them._

“I love you—”

 _Cas is warm in Dean’s embrace and he smells like jasmine and apple pie and home_. _“I’ll love you forever,” Dean says._

“Wait for me—”

_Shy face looks up at Dean. “I don’t need forever,” Cas whispers back against the crook of Dean’s neck. “A tomorrow with you is enough.”_

“I’ll see you again.”

_Tomorrow begins._

Forever ends.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a wild ride from start to finish. After a lot of tears, self-doubt, and me screaming, "WHY THE FUCK DID I THINK THIS IS A GOOD IDEA!" to the dead night, I can finally finish this. I'm so proud... *sheds tears*
> 
> I can't thank my betas, Jennifer and Merve, enough for pointing out where I did wrong (I'm sorry for putting you guys through that). Without you guys, this fic would have been nothing.
> 
> Also, to my lovely artist who chose _my_ fic, Whitney, aka pinkbucky on Tumblr. I seriously can't love you any more because you're simply too perfect. Your art is gorgeous, you're very nice and patient with me, and you should know that I never quite figure out how I ever deserve you. Seriously, guys, her arts for this fic is much more than everything I could've hoped for. Here's the link for both arts: [TUMBLR](http://pinkbucky.co.vu/post/133255575709/dcbb-seeking-love-for-the-end-of-the-world)
> 
> And last, thank you for all of you who read this from start to finish. You're all with me in this amazing journey, and I hope I manage to deliver a story that'll at least leave a mark in your pages of life. May we see again later.


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